


boy next door

by wingchestr



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alpha Katsuki Yuuri, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barista Yuuri, Blow Jobs, Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Coffee Shops, Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hickies, Intercrural Sex, Knotting, M/M, Making Out, Marathon Sex, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mutual Pining, Nesting, No mpreg, No noncon, Omega Victor Nikiforov, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Massage, Rimming, Scenting, Smut, Switching, Tender Sex, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Top Victor Nikiforov, Vicchan Lives, angst only in the beginning, chris is a supportive friend, mystery man is called matthieu, no dubcon, so does yuuri, viktor has a terrible crush, viktor pines A Whole Lot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-16 05:37:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11247402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingchestr/pseuds/wingchestr
Summary: “Hi, welcome to the Green Bean,” Yuuri says, in the way that’s become something of a joke between them. “What can I get for you today?”In which Viktor buys way too much coffee from the cute barista at the coffeeshop on the corner, and Yuuri has a terrible crush that Viktor never, ever needs to know about, and somehow it all works out in the end.





	1. the moon and its eclipse

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of months ago, slick asked me to write her a basic coffeeshop au. then i had the bright idea to also make it an a/b/o, and our conversation went something like this: 
> 
> me: what if..... the coffee shop au is also a/b/o?  
> slick: GASP YES PLEAS YOU MAD FUCKIGN GENIUS WOW
> 
> which is how this fic was born. in general, I'm really picky about a/b/o verses, and there's a lot of stuff that falls under that umbrella that I don't exactly like, which is why i wrote this one, which has all the stuff that I _do_ like.
> 
> anyway, a million million thanks to slick for beta-ing and putting up with my endless complaining ;) you can find her on ao3 as [keskasi](http://archiveofourown.org/users/keskasi/pseuds/keskasi) and on tumblr at [streetwisehercules](http://streetwisehercules.tumblr.com) and [sliktordickiforov](http://sliktordickiforov.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!

The bell above the door of the Green Bean tinkles and Yuuri looks up, hopeful. It’s early afternoon, right around the time that Viktor usually comes in to buy a vanilla latte.

The woman who just walked through the door is most decidedly not Viktor, however, and Yuuri turns back to his work of wiping the counter clean of crumbs and coffee stains, trying not to feel disappointed. He doesn’t want to be a creep, but he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t spend Tuesday and Thursday afternoons waiting for Viktor to come in. And Saturday mornings and Monday evenings. Really, Viktor buys a lot of coffee. On the days that Yuuri’s really lucky, Viktor will buy some kind of pastry as well, which he’ll then eat while sitting at the counter and making small talk with Yuuri.

Attractive, funny, enthusiastic Viktor, fashionable-without-even-trying Viktor, friendly, excitable, _really_ goddamn attractive Viktor who loves his dog and loves talking about the things he loves, and who is miles and miles out of Yuuri’s league.

That’s fine. That’s alright. Yuuri can admire him from afar, and Viktor doesn’t ever need to know.

The door tinkles again, and Yuuri’s heart stutters a bit because it actually is Viktor this time. He’s wearing sweatpants and a big, loose hoodie, but there’s that unmistakable fall of silver hair, that face that Yuuri has tried to memorize in stolen glances. Feeling like he’s been caught red-handed, Yuuri walks over to the register, trying to act calm in a way that he doesn’t feel at all.

“Hi, welcome to the Green Bean,” he says, in the way that’s become something of a joke between them. “What can I get for you today?”

Viktor takes off his sunglasses, and Yuuri immediately notes the dark circles under his eyes. He looks exhausted, and paler than usual.

“Hi, Yuuri,” he says, and his voice sounds strained too. “Could I have a small hot chocolate, please?”

Yuuri frowns a little. In the two and a half months that Viktor has been buying coffee here, Yuuri has never heard him order something non-caffeinated. But Yuuri would never question a customer’s order, even if they’re friends — are they friends? — so he says, “Of course,” and enters it into the register.

“Thanks,” Viktor says, his gaze fixed on Yuuri in a way that feels different than usual. Yuuri sniffs instinctively, but Viktor’s scent is almost impossible to detect today. That’s surprising. Viktor doesn’t tend to flaunt his scent, but it’s normally there, enticingly sweet and floral with his definitive omega musk. Now, Yuuri can barely smell him at all, let alone detect if something is bothering him.

Viktor pays and then goes and sits at a small table on the other side of the cafe, huddled down in his chair as he looks at something on his phone. Yuuri is unreasonably disappointed. Of course it makes sense that Viktor doesn’t want to talk to him every day, but he was really looking forward to chatting with him over the counter during this quiet hour of the afternoon.

“Small hot chocolate for Viktor,” Yuuri calls out, when the drink is ready, and Viktor gets up and comes over to collect it. Yuuri smiles at him, hoping he might be able to break through whatever wall Viktor has up today. Viktor smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Thanks,” Viktor says, and then goes back to his table, and Yuuri tries to swallow the burning chagrin he feels. It’s fine. It’s not a rejection, he tells himself, although it certainly feels like one. It’s just that Viktor _always_ makes an effort to talk to him, even when he’s clearly in a rush. To have him sit in the cafe, but too far away for Yuuri to speak to him — it’s unusual. Yuuri wonders if something is wrong.

He wants to ask him if everything is okay, if there’s anything he can do, but he hesitates. What if it’s nothing, and he puts Viktor in the awkward position of having to explain that he just doesn’t want to talk to Yuuri? That would be inappropriate as an employee, not to mention incredibly embarrassing.

Yuuri takes a moment, as he makes a drink for another customer, to look over to the table where Viktor is sitting alone. To his surprise, Viktor is staring right back at him, his eyes strange and heavy, but as soon as they make eye contact, Viktor looks away.

Yuuri turns back to the cappuccino machine, his neck burning. He’s being an idiot. And besides, it’s not his place to worry like this. Viktor is fine.

 

—

 

Viktor is miserable.

Huddled over his table in the corner, warming his hands around the hot chocolate he doesn’t really want, he stares hungrily at Yuuri as he moves around behind the counter.

He really shouldn’t have come here today. Not this close to his heat, exhausted and a bit feverish, his scent glands itchy and irritated under his skin. There are only about four other customers in the cafe, but it’s still incredibly taxing to be among even that many people. He’d slathered on scent-blocking creams to reduce his scent — an omega in pre-heat isn’t really a polite thing to advertise in public places — and he wishes the other customers in the shop would have been as thoughtful. He feels bombarded by their foreign scents.

Viktor shivers and hugs his arms around his stomach. The one person he does want to smell is all the way on the other side of the room, and that’s too far for even Viktor’s extra-sensitive nose to pick anything up.

He’s on the other side of the room by Viktor’s own decision, of course; he chose this tiny table instead of his normal spot at the counter because as much as he wants to talk to Yuuri, he’s terrified, certain that he’ll slip up in his less than perfect mental state and give himself away — give away that the reason this pre-heat is hitting him so hard is because he wants so badly, he’s absolutely filled with longing. He’s restless, feels like pacing, torn up by warring desires to claim and be claimed, and the object of his affections is there, right there, just a few short paces away. He’d hoped that it would be enough just seeing him one more time, but really it’s not; he wants to talk to him, he wants to scent him, he wants to pull him close and bury his nose in his neck —

Yuuri looks over at Viktor and Viktor immediately looks away, abashed at having been caught staring. This is why he shouldn’t have come.

But Yuuri — Yuuri is so cute and hot and interesting, and Viktor has the most terrible crush, and the thought of not seeing him today was worse than the thought of staying by himself in his apartment, safe and alone.

Viktor’s heat only hits him about once every four months, so this is the first one he’s had since he’s met Yuuri, and it’s worse than he thought it would be, to be able to see him but not touch him, wanting to go to him but holding himself back. He wants to nest, he feels the restless itch driving him to curl up safely in a pile of soft things, but he wants to nest with _Yuuri_. The thought of going back to his apartment and building his nest alone is terrible.

Viktor exhales shakily and counts off the days on his fingers. Three days of pre-heat, one day of heat, one day to recover, that’s how it usually goes for him. This is the first day. There’s no way that he’ll be able to come back here and see Yuuri again any sooner than five days from today.

Five whole days without Yuuri. Viktor’s omega whines, anxious and irritated. _He’s right here, why don’t we go to him, why can’t we?_

But because instincts are just instincts, and that’s not the way things work in the real world, Viktor gets up and takes his now-cold hot chocolate and heads for the door. He pauses by the counter, almost says something to get Yuuri’s attention, but Yuuri’s busy making a drink, and as he reaches for something on a higher shelf Viktor catches a hint of his scent, sharp and anxious with concern, and oh God, he smells amazing, warm and spicy sweet, like cloves and cinnamon and vanilla, undercut with his characteristic alpha piquancy. Everyone’s scent is unique, but Viktor doesn’t think he’s ever come across anyone who smells as good as Yuuri. He couldn’t make a more delicious fragrance even if he had access to the finest perfumers’ tools in the world. He wants to wrap himself up in that scent forever. He wants to give all of himself.

Yuuri turns and sees him, and his eyes light up, although the cautious, concerned look doesn’t leave his face.

“Hey, Viktor,” he says, but Viktor’s about two seconds from dropping to his knees and displaying his throat, so he just waves and, with a huge effort, he walks away and out the door.

 

—

 

Yuuri, watching Viktor leave, is unreasonably upset. He stares out the large windows at the front of the cafe long after Viktor’s silhouette has passed out of sight, until his coworker asks him what he’s looking at.

“Nothing,” Yuuri mumbles. “Just got distracted.”

That’s Viktor, in one word; distracting. He drifts into Yuuri’s thoughts at odd times, sidetracks him when he’s at work, and then does stuff like this, where he comes in, says nothing, and then leaves. Yuuri honestly doesn’t know what to do with that.

There have been days before when Viktor has been grumpy, but he’s always cheered up once Yuuri started talking to him, unwound enough to complain about the people and situations that were irritating him. Nothing like this silence, looking pinched and drawn in on himself. Yuuri regrets not asking him if everything was okay. What if he could have helped him?

Yuuri has a small, quiet fantasy of Viktor needing his help with something that Yuuri is actually really skilled at, leaving Viktor quite impressed, and then afterwards they kiss, and maybe Viktor delicately scents him, just a little.

Then he blushes, even though no one is looking at him, because what the hell? He huffs at himself and goes back to cleaning the cappuccino machine. Viktor left. No more distractions.

He’d started noticing Viktor after he’d come in a handful of times, and it was a few more times after that when Yuuri actually worked up the courage to talk to him.

“Are you new to the area?” he’d asked nonchalantly, setting the vanilla latte down in front of Viktor where he was sitting at the counter.

“Yes!” Viktor said brightly. “Well, no. Sort of. My roommate just moved in with his boyfriend, so I had to find my own place. And I found the cutest little apartment nearby, big bedroom, lots of light! My dog loves it.”

“Oh, you have a dog?” Yuuri perked up immediately.

“Yeah! He’s a brown poodle. His name is Makkachin. Do you want to see a picture?” Viktor was already opening the Photos app on his phone.

Yuuri cooed delightedly over the first picture that Viktor showed him. “Oh my God, he’s perfect,” he said, looking up at Viktor. “He looks just like a bigger version of my dog!”

“You have a poodle too? Can I see a picture?”

“A toy poodle,” Yuuri said, pulling out his phone. “His name is Vicchan,” he added, showing Viktor his lockscreen, which was a picture of a Vicchan holding a stick in his mouth that was at least twice as long as he was.

“What a precious boy,” Viktor exclaimed, and Yuuri smiled widely, slipping his phone back in his pocket.

If this guy could appreciate his dog, maybe they were off to an okay start.

They kept talking, after that, whenever Viktor wasn’t in too much of a rush and Yuuri wasn’t too busy at work. Viktor liked to announce himself by calling out “Yuuri!” from the doorway and waving, until Yuuri, blushing, had to tell him that was disturbing the other customers and could he please maybe not shout indoors. Viktor seemed chastened, but it clearly didn’t get to him too much, because he then launched into a lengthy story about a party that his friend (his ex-roommate? it was unclear) had thrown the previous weekend, from which the take away seemed to be that Viktor liked to strip when he was drunk. Yuuri distinctly remembers blushing hard at that, not because he was embarrassed by the story, but because his traitorous brain immediately tried to imagine Viktor naked and really liked what it saw.

Viktor was an artist; he made perfumes and fragrances and sold them on Etsy. He liked to talk about his work, but he liked to talk about Yuuri more, for some reason, and kept asking him questions — where was he from? How many siblings did he have? Did he have any other pets? Had he gone to college? Wow, wasn’t Detroit cold? (“Aren’t you from Russia?” Yuuri had replied to that one.) And more; What were his hobbies? Did he like working at the Green Bean? Any stories about crazy customers?

“Yes,” Yuuri had said. “There’s this guy who comes in every other day to talk to me and distract me from my work.”

Viktor lit up. “Yuuri, that’s me!”

And somewhere along the way, Yuuri had slipped and fallen. He can’t place a finger on when, exactly, but one day he was doing fine, keeping his head above the water, and the next day Viktor said “Wow!” with that heart-shaped smile, and Yuuri quietly realized, _oh no_.

 

—

 

“Yuuri,” Viktor moans, rutting down against a pillow three days later, his face pressed into the sheets that smell so strongly of his own sweet heat scent and nothing else. With one hand he’s fucking himself with a dildo, the light pink one with the glass base that has a flower inside. Usually he thinks it’s cute, likes getting off on something pretty. Right now he couldn’t care less — he’s alone and he’s aching for a partner, for one specific partner, but he’s desperate and needs to be filled and this is the best he can make do with. His other hand is clenched next to his face, gripping a handful of the sheets, trying to find some comfort in holding on to something.

It’s not working.

It’s not the first heat that Viktor has spent alone, but it never gets easier. Especially not this time, with his terrible, terrible crush, this longing that’s whipping his omega into a frenzy, whining and crying out for someone who’s definitely not coming, who doesn’t even know where Viktor is.

“Yuuri,” he whines again, small and pitiful. He’s pathetic right now, calling out in his heat for someone who’s not even close to being his partner, who almost certainly doesn’t feel that way about him. He knows this, rationally, and yet at the same time his omega is heartbroken, abandoned. _He’s not coming for us, he’s not here, where is he? Why hasn’t he come?_

Viktor knows. But Viktor is also at the mercy of his instincts right now, and his instincts are telling him that he’s been rejected, deserted in the worst of ways.  

He comes, again, but it’s not satisfying, he’s still hard and straining and empty and _alone_.

He whimpers, turning his sweaty face the other way, trying to find a dry spot to rest his cheek. The sheets are damp with his sweat, and he wriggles to the side, pressing up against the wall of his nest. He’s able to stretch out in a cool, dry spot, and he sighs, finding some modicum of relief. Still, his scent glands tingle unpleasantly, an itchy feeling under the skin in his neck, wrists, and groin that sets his teeth on edge. Scratching at them does nothing, only releases more of his scent and ignites the lust burning just under his skin. He wants arms around him, Yuuri’s arms, holding him as a nose (Yuuri’s nose) is buried in his neck, breathing him in. He wants to scent his partner, and he wants Yuuri’s scent, too, oh, he wants it so badly.

But it’s only his own solitary scent that hangs thick and heavy in the room. He smells like needy omega, heat-wild and shot through with loneliness, his body exuding enticing pheromones in a futile attempt to attract his intended partner.

Fresh air would help clear some of the fog from his head, but he knows better than to open the windows and let out so much desperate heat scent. Also, the thought of leaving his nest makes him whine involuntarily, curling up amid the pillows. He’s safe here, even though he wants his partner so desperately that the need feels like a physical thing in his chest, churning and heavy.

His nest is small; he built it small this time on purpose, big enough for just one person. It’s good to feel the pillows pressing in on him, something like an embrace. It’s better than nothing. He prepared as well as he could, with his favorite fluffy blanket to wrap himself up in, and a basket under the bed full of his favorite snacks and coconut water and iced tea, but none of it matters. He’s still miserable.

He pulls the soft blanket over himself from where he’d tossed it off before, and sleeps and wakes again and everything is the same. He’s alone in his nest, and his body is aching for Yuuri, and he wraps a hand around himself and tries to pretend that it’s not just him.

 

—

 

The next day, when Viktor wakes up clear-headed enough that he can think straight without immediately fucking into his fist or shoving something up his ass, he pulls himself up out of his ruined nest and stumbles into the kitchen. He’s still shaky, but he heads straight for the fresh fruit that he’d stocked up on before his heat struck. He doesn’t want to stay in his lonely nest a minute longer than he has to.

He’s ravenous, digging in without bothering to get a plate or even sit down, juice from the berries running down his fingers. The hilarity of the situation catches up to him and he laughs at himself, hunched naked over the counter, still smeared with traces of his own come, eating strawberries straight out of the container without even rinsing them first. It’s so funny, all of a sudden, that he has to sit down on the floor, leaning against the cabinets, laughing so hard that tears are rolling down his cheeks. And then he’s sobbing, huge sobs that wrack his body, leaving him raw, curled in a ball on his kitchen floor.

He cries for a while, and then drifts when he has no more tears to shed, when he’s cried himself dry. He feels loose, a jangly and disconnected mess. It’s not even cathartic; he just feels burned out. His heat has ripped through him, leaving him weak and fragile, and he’s still alone. He feels it even more acutely, if possible, now that it’s not blanketed by a haze of lust. It’s worse now, too, because his omega is quieter, and he knows how inappropriate it is to be feeling this way about Yuuri. Abandoned by someone he never even had, someone he has absolutely zero claim on. It aches deep in his chest, and he wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together.  

It’s worse because he’s alone, but even the four or five heats that Viktor has spent with a partner weren’t really satisfying. He always felt grumpy and irritable afterwards, something aching inside of him that he couldn’t touch or explain.

His partners usually seemed a little peeved at that.

“Was it not good for you?” they often asked.

And Viktor would paste on a smile and assure them it had been good, and that his hormones just fluctuate intensely post-heat, nothing to worry about, really.

And they believed him, or they didn’t care enough to dig deeper — in any case, they usually let the matter drop. He didn’t blame them. He wasn’t even lying, most of the time. It _had_ usually been good, as much as anything could be good during his grueling heats. It wasn’t their fault that he felt empty and wretched.

 _Maybe_ , Viktor thinks, _there’s no one for me_.

The apartment feels so big and empty, all this space bearing down on him. It would be better if Makkachin were here, and Viktor could hug him and bury his face in his soft fur. But Makkachin is staying with Chris right now, who kindly agreed to look after him during Viktor’s heat. Chris is a good friend. Viktor’s best friend.

 _He found someone to share his life with_ , the awful little voice in his head says. _What did you find?_

 _Shut up_ , Viktor tells it, pushing it down. He drags himself to his feet and makes it back into his bedroom, getting his phone from his bedside table. The bed is a disaster, so he sits on the floor instead, lying down on the soft rug.

Chris picks up on the second ring.

“Vitya?”

“Hi,” Viktor says, his voice raspy. He clears his throat. “Hey, Chris, how are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Chris says. “Makkachin is, too. How are you? You’ve made it out the other side of your heat, I assume?”

The genuine concern in his voice is enough to make Viktor tear up again. “More or less,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Would you mind bringing Makkachin over this afternoon? I know you’re busy, normally I’d come get him myself, but I don’t think I should drive today.”

“I’d be happy to,” Chris says. “I can come around three, will that work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s great,” Viktor says. He wants to see Makkachin _now_ , but he knows that’s not realistic. “Thanks, Chris, you’re fantastic.”

“Do you want human company as well?” Chris asks. “I can bring wine and bad rom coms.”

Viktor really could cry again.

 

—

 

Viktor manages to drag himself into the shower, and then strips the bed, throwing the soiled heat bedding into the wash and wrestling his normal bedding back onto the bed. He opens the windows in his bedroom as well, clearing out the stale scent. He’s completely exhausted after that, but at least he’s wearing sweatpants and a shirt when Chris arrives shortly after 3:00.

Chris is an alpha, but his gentle bonded scent is not threatening, tempered as it is with Matthieu’s serene beta influence. _I’m taken_ , it whispers, _I’m taken and I’m happy_. Even in Viktor’s current fragile emotional state, it’s familiar enough that it’s comforting when Viktor hugs him tightly before kneeling down and spending ten minutes on the floor with Makkachin.

“He missed you,” Chris says, watching fondly from the kitchen island as he pours two glasses of wine.

“Did you?” Viktor coos to the dog. “Did you miss me? Not too much, I hope!”

“He had a good time,” Chris confirms.

“You like spending time with Uncle Chris, don’t you?” Viktor coos, breaking off into laughter as Makkachin licks his face.

“The cat was not a fan,” Chris says dryly. “But we always love having him, Vitya. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Thank you so much,” Viktor says, and he means it. “Tell Matthieu I said thank you too. Really, it’s—” he stops, finding himself a little choked up.

“Matthieu loves Makkachin,” Chris says, picking up the wine glasses and coming over to the couch. “Also, he told me to invite you over for dinner as soon as you’re feeling up to it. I feel like I’ve hardly seen you lately.”

“I’ve been busy,” Viktor says apologetically, which is true. He’s gotten a big influx in commissions lately, and he has a tendency to bury himself in his work to the point of neglecting his friends. “People always want scent enhancers in the springtime. It’s the season of love,” he adds, quoting his own website, which claims that in a big flowery banner at the top.  

Viktor makes all sorts of perfumes and fragrances, but the ones that he designs to enhance and complement natural scents are his most popular. He wonders, briefly, if Yuuri would like it if Viktor created a cologne just for him. Then he pushes that thought away, because no. That would be entirely inappropriate.

“I’ve always liked all the scents you make,” Chris says, winking. He pats the cushion next to him, and Viktor drags himself up onto the couch, gratefully accepting the wine Chris offers him.

“You’re one of the few, then,” he says, thinking mournfully of how he’s very, very single.

Chris rolls his eyes and pats Viktor’s leg as he starts queuing up the movie. “So, you’ll come to dinner?”

“Of course,” Viktor says, with what feels like his first genuine smile in days.

“Good,” Chris says, slinging his free arm over Viktor’s shoulders. “We miss you.”

Makkachin jumps up on the couch and flops down heavily over Viktor’s lap, and Viktor feels a little more whole.

 

—

 

The romantic comedies, it turns out, were maybe not the best idea, as Viktor winds up sobbing into Chris’ shoulder two thirds of the way through the first one.

“They found love,” he wails, lifting his head and wiping his nose. “They’re not even as pretty as me, why am I alone?”

 _Alone_ , his omega whimpers, _he didn’t come for us, we’re alone_.

“Ah, _mon ami_ ,” Chris sighs, handing him a tissue box. “You’re not usually this upset. Did something happen?”

“No,” Viktor says, broken by a new wave of sobs, because no, nothing happened. That was the problem. He scratches Makkachin’s head, who is still lying in his lap, a comforting weight over his thighs.

“What didn’t happen, then?”

Viktor wipes his eyes, trying to get his breathing under control. “I have a crush,” he announces gravely, like he’s delivering the diagnosis of an incurable disease.

“Oh dear,” Chris says, like he understands everything.

“His name is Yuuri,” Viktor says, and even saying his name out loud feels like breaking some sacred rule. “He works at the coffeeshop on the corner. The Green Bean.”

“I see,” Chris says. “How long have you known him?”

“Almost three months,” Viktor says. “He’s perfect and beautiful and charming and he wears glasses with blue frames and his eyes sparkle and he blushes a lot—”

“Is he an omega?”

“He’s an alpha. But he smells so good, not sharp and bitter like a lot of alphas do. Sorry, no offense.”

“None taken,” Chris says, laughing a little. “I thought you swore off alphas after Richard. What happened?”

What happened is — Viktor has always been too much of a romantic, and he wishes his life were a little more like his favorite romance novels, where irresistible omegas seduce their sexy alpha love interests. But he _knows_ that’s fiction, and he’s just had terrible chemistry with the couple of alphas he’s dated in real life. He’d assumed it was an alpha thing. Except, clearly not.

What happened — Viktor wants so _badly_ to be possessed, to be taken care of and protected, and that’s kind of terrifying, and he wants to curl up and hide himself when he thinks of possessive alphas. But not when he thinks of Yuuri. He thinks he would like it a lot if Yuuri wanted to do those things.

“In hindsight, I think that was a Richard problem, not an alpha problem. I should have known better than to trust someone who wanted me to call him Dick. Anyway, I don’t want to talk about Richard, he’s not important. _Yuuri_ is important and he’s an alpha and he’s _so sexy_ , Chris, what am I going to do!”

“God, Vitya, I haven’t seen you this far gone on someone since Mikhail. Is he single?”

“Yes,” Viktor says, certainly. That was one of the things he’d made sure to ask Yuuri. He’d noted immediately that Yuuri was unbonded, no marks, just like Viktor himself, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He’d been casual about it, obviously, and Yuuri had given him a weird look but responded that no, he wasn’t seeing anyone, and no, there wasn’t anyone he liked, and no, please, Viktor, I don’t want to hear about your first boyfriend. “And stop bringing up my exes! Mikhail was _nothing_ compared to this, Chris. This is the real thing.”

“Well, good,” Chris says. “Step one achieved. Now all that’s left is for us to decide how you’re going to woo him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> poor viktor is Suffering. I promise this is the most angsty part of the fic, so if you made it through this, it only gets better ;)
> 
> I'm on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)! Come yell with me!


	2. i've been saving all my summers for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two very soft boys go on a very soft date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slick’s words of wisdom as I wrote this chapter: “every time viktor is Good At Flirting in a fic, the writer should be forced to go back and watch viktor’s actual flirting methods, which consist of: touchy touchy can't help myself, weirdly personal too fast, insults, and talking to his dog. He just seems Suave bc he wears 7k sunglasses”

The next day, Viktor walks into the Green Bean like nothing’s changed, settling his sunglasses on top of his head with a casual gesture that he only practiced twenty times in the mirror before leaving his apartment.

Yuuri is there, and Viktor’s heart does several somersaults in his chest. It’s been almost a week since he’s seen him. Five days! It should be illegal for him to have to stay away from Yuuri for such a long time.

It seems like he’s the only employee there at the moment — he’s the only one Viktor can see, at any rate — and he stares for a moment as Yuuri scribbles something on a piece of paper, frowning. Then Yuuri looks up and sees him and Viktor’s heart starts fluttering in a way that surely can’t be healthy.  

“Oh, hi, Viktor!” Yuuri says, his round face breaking into a sunny smile as Viktor approaches the counter. “You haven’t been in for a while! I thought you’d forgotten me.”

“Ha,” Viktor says, as though he hadn’t just spent a full day fucking himself silly with Yuuri’s name on his lips. “Yuu-ri, I could never forget about you! I was just… busy.”

He winces a little at that completely lame and terrible excuse, but if Yuuri notices, he doesn’t react.

“What can I get for you today? Your usual?”

“Yes, that would be great,” Viktor says, preening a little that Yuuri remembers his usual order. “And a croissant,” he adds, blurting out the first thing that his eyes land on in the display case. If he orders something to eat, he has an excuse to stay longer.

Yuuri nods, tapping at the tablet that serves as a register. “Is that for here or to go?”

“For here, please,” Viktor says with his brightest smile.

He pays and then sits on a stool at the counter, watching Yuuri as he prepares Viktor’s vanilla latte. Viktor always sits at the counter, so that he’s close enough to have an excuse to talk to Yuuri. There are a few other customers there, but it’s the middle of the day on a Thursday, so it’s pretty quiet, which Viktor is extremely grateful for.

“Here you go,” Yuuri says, setting Viktor’s coffee down in front of him instead of calling out the order like he normally would. Viktor catches a whiff of his scent — something spicy and earthy today, like sandalwood. It’s normal for scents to fluctuate a bit, based on mood and hormone levels, and Viktor wants to know every variation of Yuuri’s. He leans forward instinctively, wanting more, but Yuuri turns away and it’s gone.

Then Yuuri turns back. “Um, I’m glad you’re back,” he says, not looking at Viktor, fiddling the apron strings tied around his plump waist. “I was worried about you.” He glances up at him and Viktor’s heart nearly stops.

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims, delighted. “Really, it was nothing. You know how life is.” He waves a hand dramatically, as though that might add any meaning to what he just said.

Yuuri turns red. “Yeah, I know,” he says. “I was just being stupid, forget what I said.”

“No no,” Viktor starts, but another customer steps up to the register and Yuuri practically runs over to take her order. _That’s not what I meant_ , Viktor finishes to himself, leaning his head on his hand with a sigh. _Stupid stupid stupid_.

When Yuuri brings his croissant over a few minutes later, Viktor is ready. “I missed seeing you as well,” he says, before Yuuri can even set the plate down.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, freezing. “Um. Thanks?”

“So tell me how your week has been! Any new exciting customers? How is Vicchan doing?”

“You’re the most exciting customer I’ve met,” Yuuri says seriously, and Viktor could have ascended out of this plane of reality. Yuuri thought he was exciting! Him!

“Vicchan’s doing well,” Yuuri continues. “He got into my roommate’s bedroom and really scared his hamsters, but everyone was okay in the end.”

“Thank goodness,” Viktor says. “My friend Chris was watching Makkachin for me this week, and his cat does not like Makkachin at all.” Viktor doesn’t understand how anyone could not like Makkachin, but then Viktor has never really understood cats. He’s too impatient for them.

“Oh, did you go somewhere?” Yuuri asks, something like understanding or relief breaking over his face.

“Ah, not exactly,” Viktor says. “I was… indisposed.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, turning bright red, and he busies himself with the metal container that he’s wiping clean.

“It was nothing,” Viktor says, waving a hand. It had not been nothing. “Mostly, I just missed seeing your face and drinking your excellent coffee,” he adds with a wink.

Yuuri gets a little redder. Viktor hadn’t realized that was possible. “You can barely even taste the coffee in a vanilla latte,” Yuuri mumbles, wiping harder at the container he’s holding. It’s very clean by now.

“But I like sweet things, Yuuri,” Viktor sighs, plopping his head down on his hand.

Yuuri turns around to put the container on the counter behind him, shaking his head. “So, you must be happy to have Makkachin back, I bet,” he says when he turns to face Viktor again, clearly making some sort of effort.

“I am,” Viktor says. _An Opening_ flashes in his mind like a neon sign. He doesn’t actually have a plan — he and Chris had gotten drunk yesterday on the wine Chris brought instead of actually coming up with anything useful. They did think up several very bad plans, some of which Viktor half-remembers and would certainly ruin whatever friendship he’s built with Yuuri, if not actually land Viktor in jail. So Viktor’s improvising right now, and if his dog is the way forward, he’ll take it. “I missed him so much. He seems lonely, though. I’m not sure what to do about that.”

He waits, watching Yuuri.

“Vicchan used to like going to the dog park,” Yuuri says. “But the other dogs picked on him, so I don’t really take him anymore. Not even the big dogs, it was the little ones that were mean. Have you tried taking Makkachin there?”

“I have,” Viktor sighs. “He gets nervous. He likes being around one or two other dogs, but not a whole bunch. He’s so friendly, he never gets in fights, but he doesn’t really like all that competitiveness.”

“What about you?” Yuuri asks suddenly.

“Do I go the dog park? Not on my own, Yuuri, that’s creepy.”

“No,” Yuuri says. “Are you competitive, I mean.”

“I’m definitely competitive,” Viktor says, grinning. Is this flirting? He likes it.

“Oh good,” Yuuri says. “I am too.”

“Um,” Viktor says, eloquently, and then isn’t able to say more, because Yuuri has to go over to take another order. Viktor watches him while he makes the drink and sniffs inconspicuously at the aroma of the coffee twining with Yuuri’s subtle pleased scent, sweet and sharp and heavenly. Viktor doesn’t think he’s being overdramatic at all saying that Yuuri is the best thing he’s ever smelled.

Yuuri comes back after calling out the drink, wiping off the countertop with a rag.

“I think Vicchan gets lonely too,” he says without any preamble. “I think he’d like having another dog to walk with.”

Viktor almost stops breathing. This is his moment. “Do you think he’d like to walk with Makkachin sometime?” he asks, carefully casual, trying not to betray the way his heart is racing.

Yuuri smiles shyly, looking up at Viktor. “I think he’d like that a lot.”

“Wow!” Viktor exclaims, beaming. “A playdate for our dogs! This will be so much fun.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees, still with that sweet, shy smile that makes Viktor want to roll over and present his belly.

“Can I get your number, Yuuri, so that we can communicate about when and where we want to take them?” Viktor already has his phone out and is pulling up a blank contact field.

“Oh, sure,” Yuuri mumbles, taking the offered phone and entering his name and number with a few quick taps of his thumbs.

“Amazing! Thank you,” Viktor says, taking his phone back and smiling so widely he thinks he might burst. “I can’t wait.”  

 

—

 

Viktor leaves The Green Bean feeling like he’s flying. He’s not even sure that his feet are touching the ground. As soon as he’s far enough away that he’s sure Yuuri can’t see him through the windows, he pulls out his phone and texts Chris.

 **Viktor:** I got his number!!!!!!!  
**Chris:** :O !!  
**Chris:** Good job!!! So proud of you!!!!  
**Chris:** What’s his last name? Want to look him up

Viktor opens his contacts and almost has a heart attack when he sees that Yuuri has put in his name as **Yuuri Katsuki (coffee shop)**.

 **Viktor:** Yuuri Katsuki  
**Viktor:** He put (coffee shop) after his name  
**Viktor:** Did he think I’d forget who he was?? How could I forget him?????  
**Chris:** _image1.jpg_  
**Chris:** Is this him??  
**Viktor:** Yes  
**Chris:** :O  
**Viktor:** Did you find his Facebook already?? How?  
**Chris:** He’s really cute!!! ; >  
**Viktor:** I know!!  
**Chris:** Lucky boy  
**Viktor:** I know  <3  
**Chris:** So are you going on a date?  
**Viktor:** We’re going to walk our dogs together! A dog playdate  
**Chris:** Adorable  
**Chris:** You have to tell me everything  
**Viktor:** Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know  
**Viktor:** Well, Yuuri will be the first to know. But you’ll be a close second  
**Chris:** smooch him :*  
**Viktor:** I would like to!!!!!!  
**Viktor:** Don’t want to scare him by going too fast though  
**Viktor:** I want to woo him  
**Viktor:** I don’t want to lose him  
**Chris:** Bonne chance ~~~

 

—

 

 **Viktor:** Hi, it’s Viktor!  
**Yuuri:** Hi Viktor! :)  
**Viktor:** I can’t wait to see you  & meet Vicchan! Does this weekend work for you?  
**Yuuri:** Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning would be great  
**Viktor:** Saturday afternoon sounds perfect! Do you have anywhere in mind? I was thinking of that big park by the river. You know the one with the nice paths and the pretty lake  
**Yuuri:** Wilson Park? That’s really pretty this time of year, with all the flowering trees :) I run there sometimes  
**Viktor:** Yay! How does 1 pm sound?  
**Yuuri:** Sounds good to me  
**Viktor:** Amazing!!  
**Yuuri:** Where do you want to meet?  
**Viktor:** How about the fountain near the entrance? Don’t want to accidentally miss you  
**Yuuri:** Great! But just in case we can’t find each other, you have my number  
**Yuuri:** Looking forward to meeting Makkachin! Vicchan is excited too :)  
**Viktor:** :) :) so am I!

 

—

 

 **Viktor:** CHRIS I’M DYING  
**Viktor:** HE’S ADORABLE  
**Viktor:** HE’S SO CUTE  
**Chris:** What happened??  
**Viktor:** We made a plan for our dog walking date  
**Viktor:** It’s going to be on Saturday  
**Viktor:** He said he’s looking forward to meeting Makkachin!!!!!  
**Chris:** As he should be! Makkachin is a delightful dog  
**Chris:** I’m so happy for you. On the edge of my seat  
**Viktor:** Saturday is two whole days away!! How am I going to survive that long????  
**Viktor:** Chriiiiissssssssssss :’’’’(  
**Chris:** You can survive. I believe in you  
**Chris:** If you don’t make it to Saturday, you won’t get to go on the date with cute and charming Yuuri K (coffee shop) and his dog  
**Viktor:** But I want to see him NOW  
**Viktor:** :(  
**Chris:** Ah, young love  
**Viktor:** Don’t even joke about that :(  
**Chris:** Fine fine  
**Chris:** I’m so delighted by all of this. Just think - yesterday you were crying over him and now you’re going on a real date!

 

—

 

It’s not a date, Yuuri tells himself firmly as he gets dressed on Saturday, abandoning three different outfits before settling on a plain blue sweater and the pair of dark jeans that are somewhat flattering and at least don’t make his thighs look larger than they already are. He looks nice, but not like he’s trying too hard, which is good, because it’s not a date.

It’s not a date, he repeats, as he double and triple checks that he has everything before ushering Vicchan out to the car. Vicchan hops into the passenger seat and sits up like a person, panting excitedly as Yuuri manages to start the car on the third try. It’s an old car, and it’s on its last legs, but it’s still working for now, and honestly Yuuri’s lucky that he even managed to afford it at all.

 _Not a date_ , he hears in the static of the radio as he flips between stations. Just two friends (are they friends?) walking their dogs together. That’s a normal thing to do.

He wishes it were a date, though. He really, really does.

He arrives fifteen minutes early and spends five minutes debating whether to wait in the car or by the fountain. Finally he decides on the fountain, because what if Viktor sees him getting out of his old shitty car and judges him? Or what if he winds up encountering Viktor on the way to the fountain and then they have to decide whether to continue on to the fountain or go down a different path? It would be better to already be there, when Viktor arrives.

What if Viktor doesn’t show up?

Yuuri pets Vicchan, who licks his hand comfortingly. Then he clips his leash on and carries him out of the car, locking the door manually because the remote lock on the key doesn’t work anymore.

He scans the parking lot for any car that looks like it might belong to Viktor, but there are only a handful of other cars right now, and none of them scream “I’m extra and I make perfume for a living.” Yuuri can smell his own bitter anxious scent working its way through the calming cologne he’d put on earlier, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair.

It’s alright. He’s early. He’ll wait by the fountain, like they planned.

“Come on, Vicchan,” Yuuri says, trying to sound cheerful. What’s he so worked up about, anyway? It’s not a date.

 

—

 

Viktor arrives at 1:07 pm, pulled along the path by a large brown poodle who looks even more like Vicchan in real life. He stops in front of Yuuri, looking harried and breathless, and Yuuri stands, realizing suddenly that it’s the first time he’s met Viktor without wearing a Green Bean apron. It’s the first time they’d stood face to face without a counter between them. Viktor is a little taller than he’d realized, Yuuri thinks, as Viktor opens his mouth to speak.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Viktor says, switching the leash to his other hand and tugging down the hem of his geometrically-patterned sweater. “I was trying to leave the apartment and I just couldn’t find anything. One of those days. I think I lost my keys three times. Anyway! This is Makkachin,” he says, and Yuuri’s already crouching down to greet the dog.

“Hi Makkachin,” Yuuri says, grinning, scratching Makkachin’s head as he pants happily into Yuuri’s face. “I’ve heard so much about you, it’s so great to finally meet you in person. You’re a very good dog.” He glances up at Viktor, who’s looking down at him with a strange expression on his face, and then he scoops Vicchan up in his arms, standing again to introduce him to Viktor.

“This is Vicchan,” he says, and Viktor looks absolutely thrilled, cooing gentle words of praise at the small poodle.

“Oh my goodness, you’re so sweet,” Viktor says, running his fingers through Vicchan’s soft fur. He looks at Yuuri. “I meant to ask you, is Vicchan his full name, or is it a nickname for something?”

“Um,” Yuuri says. He’d hoped to avoid this conversation, hopefully forever. “It’s a nickname. It’s short for Victor, actually. He’s not named after you, of course, it’s just a name that I like.” He cringes a little, waiting for Viktor’s reaction to the fact that he shares a name with Yuuri’s dog.

But Viktor gasps, looking delighted. “Your dog has my name? Yuuri! And you didn’t tell me?” He leans down a little to where Vicchan is still cradled in Yuuri’s arms and takes one of Vicchan’s paws. “Nice to meet you, Victor,” he says seriously. “I’m also Viktor.”

Yuuri doesn’t think he’s going to be able to get through this afternoon, if Viktor’s going to do things like _that_.

Viktor straightens up, and Yuuri sets Vicchan down to let the dogs get acquainted with each other. “So,” he says, suddenly feeling unsure in a way that he never does when Viktor comes into The Green Bean. “Which way do you want to walk?”

“I would be happy going any direction, as long as I'm with you,” Viktor says, so sincerely that Yuuri is certain he's making fun of him.

“Okay, let’s go left,” he says.

They walk in silence for a minute. Yuuri watches the dogs, who seem to be getting along, and thinks that if nothing else, at least this wasn't a wasted outing for Vicchan.

Walking side by side on the path, Yuuri is closer to Viktor than he normally is in the coffee shop, and he can smell his refreshing scent without even trying, notes of rose and jasmine and sage, lined through with his pleasant omega musk, curling towards him in the spring air.

He wants to lean closer, inhale him, breathe him in until he can place every single sweet flower emanating from his skin. He wants to see what their scents would smell like together, if they would match well, if Viktor would like to wear Yuuri's scent softly against his own.

Yuuri shakes his head and looks the other way. Those are dangerous thoughts.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says suddenly, and Yuuri looks back towards him, terrified that Viktor has just gained the power to read Yuuri's thoughts. But Viktor just points at the trees that border the path, branches lined with pink and white flowers. “Look at how pretty that is.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees, “really pretty,” and suddenly he's thinking of Hasetsu and the cherry blossoms in the spring. He's thinking, even more absurdly, of _Viktor_ in Hasetsu, looking up and laughing as a light breeze sends a shower of petals raining down on him. Yuuri has a funny feeling at the thought of Viktor meeting his parents, something far too warm and delicate for this maybe-friendship. He needs to think about something else.

“Do you want to go down to the lake?” he asks.

Viktor agrees enthusiastically, so they head down the path to the body of water that’s shaped like a large kidney bean, the water rippling in the spring breeze and reflecting the perfect blue of the sky. Makkachin tries to chase a duck, pulling Viktor forward in a graceless jerk, and a whole squadron of ducks takes of in a flurry of wings, settling out in the middle of the lake where they are safe from dogs.

“Makka,” Viktor scolds half-heartedly, and Yuuri hides his laugh in his hand.

“He has terrible manners,” Viktor says, tossing his bangs out of his eyes as he looks up, and Yuuri’s heart stops a little in his chest before continuing to beat, very quickly.

“Whose fault is that, I wonder,” Yuuri murmurs, gazing off across the lake.

Viktor gasps, mock-offended. “Yuuri! Are you accusing me of spoiling my poodle son?”

“Oh, not at all,” Yuuri says.

“Well, you’re entirely right. He’s terribly spoiled. But he knows when to follow the rules, too, I promise. He just gets excited around waterfowl. Mostly ducks. He learned the hard way that geese can be mean.”

“That’s true,” Yuuri agrees solemnly, remembering a goose that bit him in the thigh on a childhood school trip to the arboretum. He’d squealed, mostly out of surprise, and his classmates had laughed at him. “They’re not my favorite birds.”

“Good to know,” Viktor says seriously. “I’ll never surprise you with a box full of geese. What _are_ your favorite birds?”

“Are you going to surprise me with a box full of _uguisu_ , Viktor?” Yuuri asks, teasing. “Um, I think you’d translate that as ‘bush warbler’ in English. They’re pretty common where I’m from.”

Viktor’s face lights up and he repeats the name of the bird, so Yuuri says it again, smiling shyly when Viktor pronounces it correctly.

“They’re pretty drab-looking, but they have a really distinctive song,” Yuuri tells him. “And the young ones learn to sing it by copying their elders. It takes them a while it get it right.”

“I like that,” Viktor says, smiling back at him, wide and carefree. He reaches out and gently, so gently, curls his fingers under Yuuri’s chin, swiping his thumb across his cheek. Yuuri freezes, unsure what to do, unsure what’s happening, _hoping_ and terrified.

“Eyelash,” Viktor explains, removing his hand, and it’s like it was never there at all, except for the burning in Yuuri’s cheeks. “Also, Yuuri — please call me Vitya. Viktor is so formal.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, enjoying the way it tastes on his tongue, and is delighted to see Viktor’s cheeks turn pink, the tip of his nose blushing as well. “Is that a nickname?”

“Similar,” Viktor says, with his heart-shaped smile. “It’s a diminutive. Russian names have a lot of different forms.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says again, with a smile. “I like it.”

Viktor beams at him and blushes harder, swinging his arm as they start walking again. Yuuri _almost_ reaches for his hand, but his self restraint is better than that, so he just walks next to him as they stroll the path around the perimeter of the lake, going slowly so the dogs can inspect all the interesting smells they find.

And maybe Yuuri’s walking a little too close to him, so that he can catch Viktor’s lovely scent before the light breeze carries it away, but Viktor doesn’t seem to mind, and Yuuri wants to steal all the moments he can. He’s not sure if he’s going to get a second chance to walk with Viktor, like this — he’s certainly not being very interesting conversationally, focused as he is on keeping his pounding heart and inappropriate thoughts under control. But it’s a beautiful day, and Viktor is a vision with the sunlight gleaming off his silver hair, gently tossed by the breeze, and Yuuri is just happy to be here, regardless of what comes afterwards.

“Do you miss home, Yuuri?” Viktor asks suddenly. They’d lapsed into silence after talking about the pros and cons of lattes (pro: good to drink, Viktor claims; con: they’re unnecessary, Yuuri counters. He admits they’re good for practicing foam art, however) and Yuuri is caught a little off guard.

“A bit?” he says. “I miss my family a lot. But I’ve lived here for five years now, so I’m used to it. And I like it here. I do want to move back home someday, though. My parents aren’t as young as they used to be, and they’ll need someone to take over the onsen eventually. My sister can’t do everything by herself.”

He’s rambling, he realizes, so he quickly cuts himself off. Viktor doesn’t care about his small-town worries.

“What about you?” he asks, allowing himself to turn and look at Viktor as he asks a direct question. Viktor is from Russia; he must get homesick too. Viktor is breathtakingly beautiful.

“Oh, yes,” Viktor says brightly, waving his hand. “My family in St. Petersburg is very big. I usually go back to visit them about once a year. I love them all and they’re so supportive of me, but they can also be… a lot.”

“That makes sense,” Yuuri says, wondering what on Earth Viktor’s family is like if _Viktor_ describes them as " _a lot_." He’s also struck with the sudden, guilty thought that he’s glad that Viktor isn’t about to up and move back to Russia. He selfishly, selfishly wants Viktor to stay nearby.

“Not a lot of people I meet can relate to what it’s like, having family half the world away,” Viktor says, and his voice is uncharacteristically tender, but when Yuuri looks up at him Viktor is already looking away, smiling into the distance and saying, “Look at how the sun reflects off the water, Yuuri!”

Yuuri looks and really, it’s stunning, a sea of silver sparkles glinting off the surface of the lake. He sneaks a glance at Viktor, who is still watching, as Makkachin snuffles around his feet and then forages ahead. And looking at Viktor was a bad idea, because now he can’t look away, and oh, this is dangerous, this whole outing was a mistake. Yuuri can’t help it, he’s being so _obvious_ , and Viktor will realize how he feels and then he won’t come into the Green Bean anymore, and Yuuri will have to work dull, endless shifts without Viktor’s bright laugh lighting up the space.

“I wish I was a photographer,” Viktor says. “Or an artist. You just can’t capture that on a phone camera,” and he turns back towards Yuuri, and oh, suddenly they’re so close, too close. Viktor’s eyes are wide and his lips slightly parted, and Yuuri blinks and turns away, walking forward before he can do something _really_ stupid.

“My roommate is a photographer,” Yuuri says, reaching for any topic to fill the awkward silence he created. “Professionally, for models and stuff?” He cringes at himself but forages ahead, desperately. “You should see his Instagram, it’s the most aesthetically pleasing thing I’ve ever seen.” Honestly, Yuuri’s not sure how he’s allowed to exist as a person, when a minute ago he was thinking about kissing Viktor and now he’s talking about Phichit’s Instagram, of all things.

Viktor, because he’s the best person on the planet, actually seems interested.

“I’d love to!” he says. “I use Instagram all the time. Do you have one?”

“I do,” Yuuri admits. “Phichit — my roommate — set it up for me. I don’t post a lot on there, though.”

“We should follow each other!” Viktor says, and that’s how Yuuri winds up trading Instas with Viktor, right there by the lake. Viktor follows Phichit too, for good measure, and then takes a selfie with Yuuri, framing a couple of ducks floating peacefully in the background. He quickly taps out a caption and then shows it to Yuuri for his approval.

 _Good weather, cute boy_ <3 _#dogpeople #walkinthepark_ , it says, and Yuuri feels himself blush bright red all the way to his ears.

“Uh huh,” he manages, because _Viktor called him cute, Viktor thinks he’s cute???_ Yuuri is pretty sure his brain is short-circuiting. Viktor _beams_ at him, quickly tagging Yuuri in the photo and then posting it.

“Now it’s official!” Viktor says, slipping his phone into his pocket and stretching his arms out happily. His arm, when it comes down, settles around Yuuri’s shoulders, and Yuuri thinks that if he blushes any more he will actually explode.

Still — he’s not going to say _no_ to Viktor’s arm around him, even if he’s entirely unsure how to interpret it. The thing is — he _wants_ so badly —

 _No_ , Yuuri tells himself firmly. _Someone like Viktor wouldn’t want something like that with someone like me._

Viktor’s hand is warm where it rests on Yuuri’s arm, though, and Yuuri can’t help leaning into him a little bit, even though he knows he’s dooming himself. Viktor pulls him a little closer, tucking Yuuri into his side, and Yuuri lets him, their steps falling into sync, their dogs trotting happily ahead of them.

“I’m really happy that you agreed to come here with me today, Yuuri,” Viktor says, giving Yuuri’s arm a squeeze.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, caught off guard. He’s pretty certain that _Viktor_ is the one who agreed to meet _him_. “Well, good.”

“I’m having a great time with you,” Viktor says, smiling down at him, and Yuuri’s heart thumps painfully. He can’t help smiling back, embarrassingly breathless.

“Me too,” he says, far too sincerely.

Viktor stops walking, and brings his other hand up to hold onto Yuuri as well, sort of like a hug, except there’s still some space between them.

“Yuuri, can I ask you something?” Viktor says seriously.

“Sure.” Yuuri’s terrified, suddenly, and hopes his fear doesn’t show on his face, hopes that Viktor isn’t going to ask about how Yuuri’s so terribly far gone on him. Hopes they can still be friends.

“You can say no, but I would really like to kiss you right now.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says faintly, and then he’s tilting his face up and reaching for Viktor, softly meeting his lips.

Viktor kisses him sweetly, chastely, and looks at him softly when they separate, his fingers curling around Yuuri’s wrist.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time,” he says.

“You _have?_ ” Yuuri asks, incredulous.

Viktor frowns. “Is that bad?”

“No, it’s just—” Yuuri laughs, too many emotions piling up in his chest. “I’ve been wanting to also.”

“ _Really?_ ” Viktor says, his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders now, looking impossibly delighted.

“And who would have thought— _you_ wanting to kiss _me_ —”

“Of _course_ I want to kiss you, how could I not? Can I do it again?”

“Yes,” Yuuri breathes, and Viktor kisses him again, his hand gently cupping the back of Yuuri’s head, his arm around his waist, their bodies pressed lightly together.

 _Maybe it is a date_ , Yuuri thinks crazily. Viktor’s lips are impossibly soft. Yuuri hopes his glasses aren’t digging into his face too much.

Viktor runs his thumb over Yuuri’s lips when he pulls away, smiling so tenderly that Yuuri feels it like a tug on his very heart.

He’s falling, and Viktor has the power to break him, but right now, Yuuri doesn’t care. It’s all worth it, he thinks, to get to see Viktor in this moment — drenched in sunlight, blue eyes dancing, the ghost of him still tingling on Yuuri’s lips. Viktor, who wants to kiss him, who’s been wanting to for a long time. It’s worth it. That’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not a slow burn fic :)))
> 
> if it seems like the a/b/o part isn't very strong at the moment, that's because most of the "extra" stuff only happens when hormones fluctuate around heats and ruts. we'll be seeing that later on, don't worry ;)
> 
> you can find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!
> 
> and more words of wisdom from slick: “Viktor, in any situation where he gets Yuuri to go on One date with him: “Operation: be the best boyfriend ever is in effect””


	3. some kind of fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> more dates and more firsts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for your wonderful enthusiastic comments, they are giving me Life!! <3
> 
> & this is the chapter that would raise the rating, if I hadn’t rated it explicit to begin with ;)

When they return to the parking lot after their lovely walk, Viktor spends ten minutes saying goodbye to Yuuri, not wanting to go.

“When am I going to see you again?” he asks a bit forlornly, as though Yuuri is leaving for good.

“Well, you know where I work,” Yuuri says, teasing gently. “I’m pretty sure you’ll see me if you come to get coffee tomorrow.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Viktor says with a wink. He’s doing his best not to seem too desperate too fast. He has a feeling he’s failing. “I always need my coffee.”

“That must be why you always happen to come during my shift,” Yuuri says, straight-faced.

“Oh definitely,” Viktor says, stepping a little closer. “You know, coffee tastes better when it’s made by someone cute. It’s a scientific fact.”

“Really?” Yuuri says. “I didn’t know that. Maybe you’d better make coffee for me sometime so I can test that theory.”

“I’d love to,” Viktor says faintly, feeling like he’s floating out of his body a bit because _Yuuri thinks he’s cute_ and also because the only situation he can think of where he’d be making Yuuri coffee is if Yuuri is at his place in the morning. Is Yuuri implying…? “Any time you want,” he promises, before he can fall farther down that line of thought.

Yuuri looks down as Vicchan starts winding his leash around Yuuri’s legs and laughs. “He’s getting impatient,” he says. “I guess I’d better go. See you soon, Vitya,” and he leans up to place a brief kiss on Viktor’s lips. Then he blushes and smiles and turns away, looking down at Vicchan as he walks towards his car.

“See you,” Viktor says a little dazedly as Yuuri walks away, his hand coming up involuntarily to touch his lips, where Yuuri’s lips had just been. Makkachin tugs at his leash. “Yes, Makka, we’re going,” Viktor says, his gaze not leaving Yuuri’s figure as Yuuri unlocks his car and then turns and sends a final wave back in Viktor’s direction. Viktor waves back, his heart fluttering in his throat.

Then he realizes that maybe he’s being a creep, staring at Yuuri like that, so he drags himself back to his car and opens the door so Makkachin can hop in.

(“You drive a _pink convertible?_ ” Yuuri had asked when he’d first seen Viktor’s car, giggling incredulously. Viktor promised to take him for a ride in it soon.)

He goes to the Green Bean the next day to get his coffee, of course, and Yuuri blushes and smiles beautifully when he sees him, and leans across the counter like he’s sharing a secret when Viktor asks about his day. Viktor leans his head on his hand and listens, hanging on his every word, not wanting to miss a moment.

When Yuuri gives Viktor the latte he ordered, there’s a heart drawn in the foam, and Viktor stares open-mouthed for almost a full minute while Yuuri giggles and covers his mouth with his hand.

“Is this for _me?”_ Viktor asks, floored.

“You ordered it, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but— Yuuri! This is so cute I’m going to die.”

“Oh no,” Yuuri deadpans. “Should I take it back? I’m not supposed to kill my customers.”

“No,” Viktor says, his hands going protectively around the wide red mug, “it’s mine.”

He takes a picture and posts it to Instagram with the caption _wow!! <3 @y-katsudon_ _#latteart_ before he drinks it and ruins the masterpiece.

Yuuri is a masterpiece. Viktor is so lucky that he gets to sit in this coffee shop and see him and talk to him and be part of his space for a little while.

“You know, I think Vicchan really liked Makkachin,” Yuuri says, coming back over a little later, after making several more drinks. “He seemed happy afterwards.”

“Good!” Viktor says, beaming. “And what about Vicchan’s owner?”

“He was happy too,” Yuuri says, his cheeks turning pink.

Later, Yuuri comments on his picture with a blushing emoji, and Viktor has to press his hand over his mouth for several minutes before he recovers.

He’s incredibly proud of himself that he manages to hold it together one whole day after that before texting Yuuri and asking if he wants to get coffee together later that week. He includes a heart and a smiley face and a kiss face, so that Yuuri can’t misunderstand his intentions.

 _Okay_ , Yuuri texts back, five minutes later, _but not at the place where I work_.

He sends a smiley face afterwards, and Viktor clutches the phone to his chest, wondering if he’s going to experience heart palpitations every time Yuuri texts him.

 **Viktor:** !! :D  
**Yuuri:** There’s this nice place downtown we could go?  
**Viktor:** Can’t wait!  
**Viktor:** Even though you’re a health hazard  
**Yuuri:** Why? What did I do???  
**Viktor:** You’re too cute when you text me. I’m going to have a heart attack  
**Yuuri:** I apologize. I’ll do my best to be less cute  
**Viktor:** Sorry, I’m afraid it’s an incurable condition ♥︎

But if Yuuri is cute over text, he’s irresistible in person. The whole afternoon in the park feels like a dream. When Viktor closes his eyes, all he can think of is the perfect moment of kissing Yuuri by the sparkling lake; Yuuri, warm in his arms and impossibly real.

Viktor is hopeless. He daydreams while he’s working; Yuuri, looking gorgeous and soft in a jewel-blue sweater, with his dark cuffed jeans that hug his curves and those gorgeous thighs that Viktor _really_ wouldn’t mind wrapped around his head. Yuuri, with his precious little poodle, like a tiny version of Makkachin, bounding on the end of his leash and Yuuri’s pleased laugh gracing Viktor’s ears. Yuuri, looking at Viktor, brown eyes sparkling, the most beautiful eyes Viktor has ever seen. And he’d kissed him!

On Thursday, Yuuri picks Viktor up and drives him to a cute cafe downtown. Viktor gets a chai latte and Yuuri gets a cappuccino, and they sit across from each other at a little table on the outdoor patio and Viktor grins stupidly at Yuuri, who chases his feet under the table. The latte is not as good as the ones Yuuri makes, Viktor declares, and Yuuri blushes and says that he’s by no means an expert. Viktor catches a whiff of his pleased scent, warm and spicy sweet, and nearly swoons. He wants to hold Yuuri for hours until knows every delicious note by heart.

Afterwards, they stroll down a street lined with trendy little shops, window shopping, and Viktor is so happy to be spending time with Yuuri on a warm spring day that he reaches out without thinking and takes Yuuri’s hand. Then he glances at Yuuri, worried that was too much, he should have asked, but Yuuri just looks back at him and squeezes his hand and doesn’t let go.

They go into an antique shop and emerge with a little wooden elephant (Yuuri) and a large pirate hat with a dramatic feather (Viktor). Viktor puts the hat on and doesn’t take it off until they get back to the car, an hour or so later.

It’s evening by the time that Yuuri parks his car in front of Viktor’s apartment building, just down the street from the Green Bean.

“I had a really nice time today,” Yuuri says, smiling shyly.

“So did I,” Viktor says, trying to memorize his face, hoping that he can convey what a wonderful afternoon he had just through three words.

Yuuri leans over to kiss him goodbye, and Viktor pulls him a little closer, and it’s entirely his fault that they spend the next twenty minutes making out in the front seat of Yuuri’s car. Yuuri smells _incredible_ , his scent flooding over Viktor, like cloves and nutmeg and a faint hint of vanilla, and Viktor only wants it on his skin for _ever_. He sends out more of his own scent in return, and Yuuri kisses him hotter, his hands sliding through Viktor’s hair and creeping up under his shirt.

Yuuri is flushed and breathless when he pulls away, his hair a mess and his lips pink and swollen, and Viktor, because he has no self control, invites him up to his apartment for dinner.

Yuuri looks regretful. “I’d really like to,” he says. “But I promised Phichit I’d be home for dinner tonight. He’s trying one of his mom’s recipies. Next time?”

Viktor’s heart thrills, because _next time_ , there’s going to be a next time. “Okay,” he says, and limits himself to only five more kisses before he gets out of the car and waves until Yuuri drives away.

 

—

 

Next time, for their third date (and it definitely is a date, Viktor uses the word “date” no less than ten times), Viktor takes him ice skating, and neither of them are very good, but they go around the rink slowly, holding hands, and Yuuri only falls once. (This means Viktor falls, too, because he grabs for Yuuri in an unsuccessful heroic attempt to catch him and winds up sprawled on top of him on the ice.) The rink has fairy lights strung overhead, and the crisp chill air makes their cheeks pink, and Yuuri can’t stop staring at Viktor.

“What?” Viktor asks, smiling, brushing Yuuri’s cheek with a gloved thumb.

“Nothing,” Yuuri says, trying to tear his gaze away. _You’re beautiful_ , he thinks.

“My feet are getting tired,” Viktor says. “They’re selling hot chocolate over there, do you want to get some?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says, heartfelt. His feet have also been aching for a while now, but he hadn’t wanted to cut any of this short.

They sit on a bench to drink the hot chocolate and Viktor gets some on his nose and Yuuri almost _almost_ kisses it off but holds himself back, because this night is perfect so far and he doesn’t want to accidentally ruin it by going too fast and pushing Viktor away. He’s pretty sure that Viktor hasn’t been dreaming about this quite as long as he has.

Afterwards, back at Viktor’s place, about two blocks from Yuuri’s place of employment, they wind up watching a movie and cuddling on the couch, and then the cuddling turns into a couple of kisses, sneaked between scenes, and then the kisses become heavier and the movie is forgotten.

And well, maybe Yuuri’s scenting him a bit much, rubbing his wrists all down Viktor’s back and up into his hair, but he’s wanted this for so _long_ and he can’t really help himself. Even though they haven’t put a label on it, haven’t talked about what this _is_. But that’s fine. Yuuri doesn’t really want to start that conversation, because he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t like the answer Viktor would give him. But it’s good enough how it is — he gets to go on dates with Viktor, even if they aren’t necessarily _dating_ , and he gets to touch him and kiss him. So there’s really nothing to complain about.

“Wow, Yuuri,” Viktor says, pulling away for air, looking flushed, his pupils wide in the dim light.

“Um,” Yuuri says, because he can still feel the ghost of Viktor’s lips and that’s incredibly distracting.

“I like the way you smell,” Viktor says, sniffing delicately at his own shirt. Which is covered in Yuuri’s scent.

“Oh God,” Yuuri says. “I’m sorry, I got kind of carried away—”

“I said I like it,” Viktor says, shifting closer. He’s leaning against the back of the couch, turned to face Yuuri, who is sitting cross legged with his knees against Viktor’s thigh. Viktor slides his hand up Yuuri’s neck into his hair, and then he leans down and buries his nose above Yuuri’s collarbone, right over his scent gland.

“Agh,” Yuuri manages faintly, because this is pretty much straight out of one of the small fantasies that occupy his mind during boring hours at work. Viktor makes a pleased humming noise that sends shock waves over Yuuri’s skin, setting all his nerve endings alight. Viktor’s head is tilted to the side, and almost without thinking Yuuri dips his head down towards his bared neck, close enough to breath in the scent that’s heavy on his skin, rolling with rose, honeysuckle, gardenia, pleased and excited in a way that just makes Yuuri want to get closer, inhale him until he can’t smell his own scent anymore, only Viktor’s.

He doesn’t realize how far he’s sunk down, leaning into Viktor, until Viktor makes a distressed noise and wriggles away.

“Ah, Yuuri, you’re squishing my head,” he says, pulling his face out of Yuuri’s shoulder and sitting up again.

Yuuri feels himself flush. That makes two times he’s gotten carried away in five minutes. He’s setting a great record tonight. “Sorry,” he mumbles, looking down at his hands. His hands are in his lap, so that means that he’s staring down at Viktor’s lap too, which only makes him blush harder.

Gentle fingers touch his chin and tip his head up. “Please don’t apologize,” Viktor says, his eyes looking far more heated than they have any right to. “You like my scent, Yuuri?”

“Yes,” Yuuri says in a half-whisper, like it’s a secret.

Viktor leans forward until his lips are mere inches from Yuuri’s. “Good,” he says. “Because I want to cover you in it.”

And then they’re kissing again, and Yuuri holds onto him like he’s drowning and Viktor is the only life raft in a choppy sea. Waves of Viktor’s scent roll over him like a caress, making Yuuri clutch at him harder, more insistent as Viktor kisses him deep and hot, his hands roaming over Yuuri’s body like he’s trying to map him.

Yuuri brings his hands up to the sides of Viktor’s face as he climbs into Viktor’s lap, straddling him, wanting to be closer. Viktor makes a pleased sort of almost-moan into Yuuri’s mouth and Yuuri feels like a fire’s been lit inside of him. Viktor’s hands slide down his sides, settling on his hips, but seem reluctant to go any lower. Yuuri would very much like him to go lower, please, so he grabs one of Viktor’s hands and places it firmly on his ass. Viktor makes a questioning noise, and Yuuri answers affirmatively, and then both of Viktor’s hands are cupping his ass and _squeezing_. Yuuri pushes backwards into his touch and rolls his body against Viktor a little, his arms around his shoulders, one hand in his hair. He dips his head down to kiss his neck, sucking a little but not too much because Viktor didn’t say that he was okay with hickies.

“God, Yuuri,” Viktor says, his voice rougher than Yuuri has heard it before. “You’re…”

He trails off into a gasp when Yuuri licks over his scent gland, tasting his scent thick and heavy on his tongue. He’s flooded with Viktor, his senses are giddy with it, and he wants and wants.

He finds Viktor’s lips again and licks into his mouth, far more urgently than the situation demands. They’re in no rush, they’ve got all night ( _all night_ , Yuuri shivers), no pressing engagements looming, but Yuuri doesn’t want to take it slow right now.

Viktor doesn’t want to either, it seems, with the way he’s responding, nipping and sucking at Yuuri’s lips and tongue, his hands all over him like he can’t decide where to put them. Yuuri feels drunk, although he knows he isn’t, he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol tonight, but he feels that same single-minded focus that he gets when he’s pleasantly buzzed. He doesn’t want anything else to exist except for Viktor and him, here on this couch.

The couch. Right. They’re in Viktor’s living room. Is that okay? How far are things going to go? Should they move to the bedroom? Does Viktor want him in his bedroom?

Yuuri pulls away and returns his attention to Viktor’s neck, drawing beautiful gasps out of him that Yuuri wants to snatch up and hoard away forever. He goes slower, under the pretense of needing to catch his breath, to give himself a moment to think.

It’s not like this is his first time. He’s been to this point and much further with other people before (although none as hot as the man that he’s sitting on top of right now). But Yuuri inevitably gets too much into his head and clams up and makes everything awkward. He doesn’t want it to go like that with Viktor.

“Yuuri?” Viktor tips Yuuri’s head up so that he can meet his eyes, and Yuuri lets him, humming in acknowledgement. Viktor looks concerned, which is not how Yuuri wants him to look.

“Is everything alright? You smell worried.”

Shit.

“Yeah, everything’s great,” Yuuri says, trying for an easy smile. He feel like it comes out a bit pained.

“Because we can stop, if I’m going too fast for you. I don’t want to push you into anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, you’re not—” Yuuri mumbles, dropping his eyes. Viktor’s hands are resting lightly on his thighs, curled above his knees, and Yuuri’s grateful for the touch, but he wants more.

“I don’t have any expectations,” Viktor says. “I just want you to know that.”

Yuuri sighs, linking his hands behind Viktor’s neck. Fuck it. Might as well go for it.

“I kind of wish you did,” he says.

“What?”

“I wish you did. Have expectations,” Yuuri says. His ears are burning.

Viktor blinks at him. “Oh,” he says. “Do you have expectations of me?”

Yuuri shakes his head. “No. But I was hoping…” he trails off, unsure how to finish that sentence. “I was hoping,” he repeats, more firmly.

“Oh,” Viktor says again, a little more breathlessly. Yuuri traces his fingers along Viktor’s jaw and leans in to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“Hoping,” he says again, eyes closed, so close that their lips brush when he speaks. “I’ve been hoping, Vitya.”

Viktor sucks in a breath and shifts Yuuri so that he’s more firmly seated in Viktor’s lap, reaching up to hold the back of Yuuri’s head as he leans up to kiss him properly.

“Yuuri,” he says, in between kisses, “You’re a brilliant surprise.”

Yuuri’s not exactly sure what that means — that Viktor never expected to be making out with a Green Bean barista? Yuuri doesn’t blame him — but it seems to be positive, so he lets himself take it as a compliment. Viktor’s other hand squeezes his ass again, and Yuuri almost moans but catches himself, resulting in a cut-off needy noise that makes Viktor rock closer towards him.

He really, really wants to find out what Viktor wants, maybe brush his fingers over Viktor’s crotch, but he feels incredibly awkward doing that after just admitting that he wants to get in Viktor’s pants. So he deepens the kiss instead, kneeling up so that he can lean down towards him, supporting Viktor’s head with one hand. He rolls his body again, in a way that would be absolutely lewd if they were touching, but as it is it’s just very suggestive.

Viktor breaks away and leans his forehead against Yuuri’s neck, blowing out a stream of Russian against his collarbone. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he mutters, and Yuuri sinks down onto Viktor’s thighs again so that he can see him better. Viktor’s expression is unreadable, but he’s still flushed, the tip of his nose blushing bright red. His hand twitches on Yuuri’s waist, and then slowly, very deliberately, he moves it to palm Yuuri through his jeans.

Yuuri can’t help the gasp that escapes him at that, or the way that he rocks forward a tiny bit into Viktor’s hand. He’s not fully hard, but he’s definitely halfway there, and Viktor can definitely feel it through his pants.

“Is this okay?” Viktor asks, and Yuuri nods very fast. It’s great. It’s more than okay.

Viktor moves his hand a little, and Yuuri bites down on a groan. This whole situation is completely unfair. How did Yuuri think he even ever had a chance?

“What do you want, Yuuri?” Viktor asks breathlessly.

“I want,” Yuuri says, and then pauses, tasting those words in his mouth. _I want_ . _You_ , he almost says, but no. That’s too open-ended. “I want you to touch me,” he finishes, and maybe it’s the low lighting but Viktor looks positively joyful.

“I can do that,” he says, and reaches for the button on Yuuri’s jeans. Yuuri holds his breath. This was a mistake. What if Viktor thinks his dick looks weird, what if he laughs at him—

But, oh boy, he really does want Viktor’s hand on him—

Yuuri lifts himself up a little so that Viktor can tug his jeans down around his thighs, and then almost delicately frees Yuuri’s cock from his underwear.

“Oh, Yuuri, look at you,” Viktor breathes.

“Um. Is that… good?” Yuuri is certain that he’s bright red. A bursting fruit.

Viktor looks up at him quickly, like he’s trying to see if Yuuri is being serious. Then his face breaks into that smile that Yuuri adores. “Very good,” he says, and then he wraps his hand around Yuuri’s cock, feeling him. Yuuri almost groans at the touch, making an indecipherable noise in his throat, and Viktor pecks a sweet kiss against his lips before leaning over to the side table next to the couch and taking a travel-sized bottle of lube out of the drawer.

Yuuri raises his eyebrows at that. Clearly, Viktor had planned ahead. Or did he just always keep lube next to his couch, for when the mood struck him?

Viktor notices Yuuri’s expression and chuckles a bit as he flips open the top, dribbling a bit into his hand to warm it.

“Just in case,” he says, and slides his slick fingers around Yuuri’s cock, stroking him properly.

Yuuri makes some kind of noise and instinctively buries his face in Viktor’s neck, mashing his nose up against his scent gland. Viktor smells warm and sweet and _aroused_ , and Yuuri really doesn’t know what incredible turn of fate got him here — straddling Viktor’s lap with his dick out, his Viktor, Viktor from The Green Bean, his favorite customer, his secret crush, untouchable Viktor, who is very much touching him right now.

“Please tell me what you like,” Viktor says, and Yuuri realizes that he’s been making soft noises against Viktor’s skin.

“Uh,” he says, very intelligently. “This feels good. I’ll tell you if you do something I don’t like.”

Viktor hums and a fresh wave of his scent rolls over Yuuri, which is what makes Yuuri realize that he’s been pouring out his own scent all over Viktor like a horny newly-presented teenager. Like he’s trying to mark him or something, claim him as his own.

Yuuri lifts his head and kisses Viktor again, and it’s slow and deep, and Viktor’s still stroking his cock at the same time, his other hand creeping up under Yuuri’s shirt, which Yuuri is still wearing, he realizes. Ah. Well, at least Viktor doesn’t seem to mind that Yuuri is apparently a high schooler who can’t even wait to undress before receiving a hand job on the couch.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, and he’s proud of himself that his voice sounds mostly normal. “Would you like it if I did you, too?”

Viktor’s hands freeze, and then he’s scrabbling at the fastening of his pants.

“Yes, Yuuri, yes,” he says, panting as though Yuuri were already touching him.

Yuuri knows that Viktor is into him — no one kisses like that without interest, and his scent is practically screaming “I’m very turned on right now” — but he didn’t expect him to be _this_ eager.

Viktor lifts his butt up to pull his pants down just enough, and _is he wearing a thong?_ Yuuri’s brain screams, but that’s secondary to his very pressing and intense interest in the bulge of Viktor’s cock, so much more obvious now through the thin material of his underwear. Yuuri touches him through the fabric, and then pulls down the waistband of the definitely-a-skimpy-black-thong and pulls Viktor’s cock out, and Viktor sucks in a shaky breath, watching Yuuri’s fingers trail over his cock, hot and already pretty hard.

There are a lot of things that Yuuri could say, things that would be cool or sexy or funny. But if he could actually think of any of those things, he wouldn’t be Yuuri.

“You’re so smooth,” is what he blurts out.

Viktor raises an eyebrow. “Well. I wax,” he says. “I can grow pubic hair, I assure you, Yuuri.”

They make eye contact and then they both burst out laughing, which does kill the mood a bit but also leaves Yuuri feeling much more relaxed. Viktor throws his arm around Yuuri’s shoulders and drags him into another kiss, still grinning.

“I like it,” Yuuri tells him, when they separate.

“Oh, good,” Viktor says, and then his hand is on Yuuri’s cock again. Yuuri reaches for Viktor’s cock too, wrapping his hand around it and giving a few experimental strokes. He’s a bit longer than Yuuri is, but not as thick, and he’s slick with precome already, surprisingly so. Does he always get this wet? Yuuri kind of wants to ask, but he can’t think of a polite way to phrase the question.

“You— you tell me too, what you like,” he says instead, and Viktor nods eagerly.

Yuuri feels like he’s fumbling, but Viktor’s hot, gasping breaths seem to say that he’s doing something right, and Viktor doesn’t tell him to stop or change what he’s doing, so Yuuri keeps going. Viktor is uncut, like him, so at least Yuuri knows what to do with the foreskin. It’s easy to fall into a rhythm that matches Viktor’s hand on his own cock, and as they move together Yuuri wraps his free hand around the back of Viktor’s neck, pulling him in to kiss him hot and wet.

“Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, more like a moan, when they break apart, resting their foreheads together, panting breaths mingling between them.

Yuuri wants to hear Viktor say his name like that over and over again.

He kisses under Viktor’s jaw, and Viktor tilts his head back, giving him more room, so Yuuri kisses a little harder, a little more insistently, and maybe he breaks his no-hickey rule, but it’s definitely an accident. Definitely. He runs his teeth over Viktor’s skin, not biting, just nipping very lightly. He doesn’t get his teeth anywhere hear Viktor’s scent gland, of course, that would be incredibly rude, but Viktor’s scent changes nonetheless, getting more heated with notes of anticipation.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, pushing his hips forward just a bit to meet Viktor’s hand, and Viktor moans low in his throat, which makes Yuuri kiss him again, enthusiastically welcoming Viktor’s tongue into his mouth, his hand on the side of Viktor’s face.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says again, pulling away for air, carding his fingers through Viktor’s hair. “I like the way we smell together.”

Yuuri’s so used to his own scent that he has a hard time distinguishing it, but he knows that it’s something spicy, like cloves or nutmeg or sandalwood. He knows as well that he must smell like an alpha, although that part of his scent he’s never been able to pick out. That’s not unusual; a lot of people can’t perceive the way their dynamic manifests. He hopes it’s not as sharp and grating as some alphas’ scents.

Mixed with Viktor’s scent, though, Yuuri’s scent takes on a whole new dimension; his spice blends with Viktor’s floral notes to create something mysterious and delicious, not at all cloying the way that he’d feared. It’s perfect. It’s the only thing he wants to breathe ever again.

“Mm,” Viktor says, burying his face in Yuuri’s neck, “It’s really good,” but his nose is right up against Yuuri’s skin and there’s no way he’s smelling anything but Yuuri.

With gentle fingers Yuuri tilts Viktor's head up so that he can find his mouth again, gasping at how strongly he can taste his own scent on Viktor's lips. Viktor's fingers play over Yuuri’s deflated knot, which is sensitive like his balls, and Yuuri gasps harder. He’s not usually able to pop a knot outside of his rut — it’s _possible,_ technically, but it takes so much concentration that it’s usually not worth it. The way Viktor’s touching him, though, makes him wonder.

Viktor makes a pleased noise in response to Yuuri’s stuttering breath and drops his hand lower to caress Yuuri’s balls, which are _very_ sensitive. It's around then that Yuuri realizes maybe this was a bad idea, because he's definitely going to come, and he's sitting in Viktor’s lap. He really doesn't want to get come on Viktor’s clothes. Or his couch.

“Uh, Vitya,” Yuuri tries, but Viktor makes a disappointed noise and chases after his lips, and Yuuri can't really be blamed for forgetting what he was going to say, especially when Viktor thumbs over the head of his cock like that. Yuuri makes an embarrassing noise and clings to Viktor harder, clutching at his shoulder like Viktor might vanish. He grips Viktor's cock a little harder as he strokes him, doing what _he_ usually likes, because Viktor didn't give him any instruction and he hasn't corrected him so far.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes against his lips, his hips twitching like he would buck up into Yuuri’s hand if Yuuri wasn't sitting on his thighs.

Yuuri cradles the back of Viktor's head and sighs against him, rocking his hips into Viktor's touch just a little, holding himself back. He’s not going to be the creep who tries to fuck Viktor’s hand on their third date. He’s not.

“Tell me, Yuuri, does it feel good?” Viktor asks, and Yuuri pulls back enough that he can meet Viktor's eyes, which are half-lidded and dark with desire, watching him intently.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, because what kind of a question is that even? How could it not feel good, it’s _Viktor_ , “really good. You're really good, Vitya,” and Viktor actually moans, leaning forward to stick his nose into Yuuri's neck again. He's shaking a little, and Yuuri tries to pet comfortingly over his hair, except, fuck, he can feel the telltale tingle in his balls that means he's fast approaching the edge, and doesn't he usually last longer than this? Where is his stamina? He supposes he can't really be blamed for having the endurance of a teenager tonight when it's Viktor who's kissing his neck, slow and open-mouthed, Viktor's hand around his cock. Viktor who he's about to come all over.

“Vitya, I’m— oh, fuck,” Yuuri says, and he comes, moving his hand to try to catch some of his spill as he slumps against Viktor with a gasping moan.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, his voice thrumming with heat, stroking Yuuri through his release as he shudders into Viktor's shoulder.

“Ah, Vitya, I'm sorry,” Yuuri says, as soon as he recovers himself enough to speak.

“What?” Viktor sounds surprised and lost. “What are you apologizing for?”

“I didn't mean to come on you,” Yuuri says, cringing a little.

“Yuuri, I don't care,” Viktor says. “I would have asked you to move, if that was an issue.”

“But your couch—”

Viktor waves a hand. “Don't worry about that. This couch has had worse things spilled on it.”

“It has?” Yuuri says weakly, trying to imagine what's worse than come. Blood? Maybe urine? What kind of stuff does Viktor get up to?

“Red wine, for one,” Viktor says, tugging up the cushion next to Yuuri to show him a big dark stain on the underside. “I had to flip the cushion over. No way that's ever getting out.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri murmurs, and kisses him again. This ridiculous man. “Can I keep going with you?”

“Please, please,” Viktor says, leaning in for another kiss, panting slightly as Yuuri continues stroking him. He takes Viktor's balls in his other hand, rolling them, biting gently at his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” Viktor whispers, turning his head and breathing a stuttering breath past Yuuri’s ear. “Yuuri, you’re…” he breaks off into a whimper, and Yuuri is amazed, absolutely stunned, at the way that Viktor is beautifully falling apart under his hands. It’s like nothing he imagined.

He would like to run his hands up under Viktor’s shirt, see if he’s as sculpted and muscular as Yuuri suspects he is. See if Viktor has sensitive nipples and likes having them touched. See if that sweet flush goes all the way down to his chest. But both of Yuuri’s hands are messy now, so he keeps them on Viktor’s cock and balls and hopes that if he kisses Viktor until he comes, it will be enough.

It is enough. Viktor cries out softly against him as he comes a couple of minutes later, spilling over Yuuri’s fist, and Yuuri thinks that he has never heard a more beautiful noise. Viktor’s arms tighten around him, his hands squeezing, and Yuuri still kisses him, pressing soft pecks around Viktor’s lips.

“Good?” Yuuri asks him, when Viktor’s breathing calms.

“Yeah. Thank you, Yuuri,” Viktor whispers, which really takes Yuuri by surprise, because this wasn’t… this isn’t something Viktor needs to thank him for. This is something Yuuri would do every day, if he could. He’s not really sure how to express that, so he just pulls Viktor into another deep kiss, making little vocalized noises in his throat when Viktor responds, lazily sliding his tongue along Yuuri’s like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Viktor moves his hands from where they’d been tightly wrapped around Yuuri’s shoulder and side, and then freezes.

“Um,” he says, and now that the warmth of Viktor’s hands is gone, Yuuri can feel cool wet patches soaking through the fabric.

“Did you get come on my shirt?” Yuuri asks, twisting his neck to glance down at the back of his shoulder, and yep, that’s definitely come. He turns back to Viktor, who has such a look of shocked horror on his face that Yuuri can’t help but laugh.

“Vitya,” he whines, still shaking with laughter, “how am I going to be able go home like this?”

And then Viktor’s laughing too, and he takes Yuuri’s messy hands and plants them firmly on his own chest.

“There,” he says. “Now we match.”

“No no no,” Yuuri protests weakly, slightly horrified but still cracking up. “Vitya, that’s gross.”

“Impossible,” Viktor says, planting a kiss on Yuuri’s jaw, and then he reaches for a box of tissues on the side table to clean them both up, which is when Yuuri realizes that there’s come on his pants as well.

Well shit. The shirt was okay, because he at least has a jacket he could wear over it, but there is no way that he’s walking into his apartment with come on his jeans — not when his roommate is Phichit, who has the uncanny ability to zero in on any evidence of sex and grill Yuuri mercilessly.

“Oh no,” Viktor says, leaning over and pulling Yuuri into his arms. “I guess you’ll just have to stay here.”

“Really?” Yuuri can’t quite believe his luck.

“Of course! If you want to. I wouldn’t keep you against your will. But…” Viktor drops his eyes, then looks up at Yuuri through his lashes. “I would like it if you stayed, Yuuri.”

“Oh, okay,” Yuuri says, which is how he winds up in Viktor’s bed, in a pair of borrowed sweatpants and one of Viktor’s old t-shirts, Viktor’s arm draped over his waist.

Yuuri doesn’t go to sleep for a long time. Not because he’s worried or nervous — the opposite of that, actually. It’s just that he’s in Viktor’s bed, with the sheets and pillows that smell like him, Viktor’s room, his space, the place where he nests, and Yuuri is trembling with something he can’t quite name. It doesn’t help that the clothes Yuuri is wearing smell like Viktor too, right against his skin, and Viktor himself is warm behind him, his sleepy gentle scent drifting over Yuuri in a way that almost makes Yuuri want to cry. This is too much, too perfect, and Yuuri’s not sure what to do.

 

—

 

 **Viktor:** Chriiiiiiiiiiisssss~~~  
**Viktor:** Guess what~~~~  
**Chris:** You finally bedded the illustrious Yuuri K (coffee shop)? ;)  
**Viktor:** YES  
**Chris:** WHAT  
**Chris:** REALLY???  
**Chris:** OH MY GOD  
**Chris:** I was joking!  
**Chris:** Are you serious????  
**Chris:** TELL ME EVERYTHIGN  
**Chris:** I have to tell Mathieu I won our bet  
**Viktor:** You had a bet???  
**Chris:** Of course we had a bet, who do you take me for  
**Viktor:** Do I want to know what the bet was for?  
**Chris:** Probably not ;)  
**Chris:** Is Yuuri still there?  
**Viktor:** No! I am a gentleman Chris. I wouldn’t text you about him in front of him, that’s RUDE  
**Viktor:** He left a little while ago. I made him breakfast and coffee!  
**Chris:** So he stayed the night!!  
**Viktor:** I am Blessed

 

—

 

Phichit is sitting at the kitchen table when Yuuri gets home, sipping his coffee and scrolling through Instagram. Any hope that Yuuri had of slipping quietly into his room is immediately crushed.

“Hey,” Phichit says, smirking at him with the look of someone who knows very well that their roommate did not come home last night.

“Ha,” Yuuri says awkwardly, toeing his shoes off by the door and trying to pretend that he’s not carrying his own comestained clothes in a bag.

“So, I’m guessing the date went well,” Phichit says, watching with interest as Yuuri takes off his jacket and hangs it up to reveal the t-shirt he’s wearing, which is a little too large for him and has big Cyrillic letters across the front. Phichit raises his eyebrows. “Oh! New shirt?”

“Ahhhhh,” Yuuri says quietly, and scurries down the hall to his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've made a playlist for this fic, which you can listen to [on youtube here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z) :)
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!


	4. come light me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> something unexpected happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for all the love!! It breathes life into my soul to see how excited people are in the comments. I hope the rest of this does not disappoint! :) I ♥︎ you all

Viktor flops across his bed and sighs dramatically. His apartment feels unsatisfyingly empty without Yuuri here.

Which is ridiculous. He _knows_ it’s ridiculous. Three dates and an orgasm don’t make a relationship.

But he stayed the night —

The last thing Viktor wants to do is be too clingy, which his last boyfriend accused him of when he’d ended things.

“I can’t be there for you all the time,” Mikhail had said. “You just don’t know when to quit.”

Viktor has been trying to teach himself when to quit. He doesn’t expect Yuuri to be there for him all the time. He doesn’t expect that of anyone except for Makkachin.

But Yuuri is a dream come true. Viktor doesn’t understand how one person could be so perfect. Yuuri who smiles with his eyes scrunched shut in the selfies Viktor takes, whose nose wrinkles up when he giggles, Yuuri who comes in his arms, trembling, and then _apologizes_ , and Viktor wants to wrap him up and hold him forever.

Viktor really, really wants to be Yuuri’s boyfriend.

“What am I going to do, Makkachin?” he says to his dog, who boofs comfortingly and tries to lick his face.

“You’re right,” Viktor says, playing with Makkachin’s ears. “I need to talk to him about it. But— what if he doesn’t want that?”

Makkachin pants happily in Viktor’s face, unimpressed by Viktor’s emotional turmoil. Viktor really doesn’t want Yuuri to reject him. That’s maybe the worst thing he can imagine. But he also knows that he needs to bring it up, because he’s already certain that he’s not going to be satisfied with anything casual, not where Yuuri is concerned.

 

—

 

“You have to tell me, Yuuri, that’s not fair,” Phichit says. He’s doing his eyeliner at the kitchen table with the help of his portable lighted makeup mirror, while Yuuri sits across from him and frowns into a coffee mug. “Come on, I tell _you_ everything.”

Yuuri frowns harder, his hands wrapped around the warm porcelain. Unfortunately, Phichit is right — Yuuri gets all the details of Phichit’s hookups, whether he wants them or not.

“It was good,” he says lamely.

Phichit rolls his perfectly winged eyes. “I assumed it was _good_ ,” he says. “You wouldn’t have stayed at his place if it was bad! Yuuri, you’ve been talking about Viktor for months, I think I deserve to know what his dick is like.”

“You sleep with him, if you want to know so badly,” Yuuri grumbles, and then immediately regrets it. He doesn’t want Phichit to sleep with Viktor. He doesn’t want anyone to sleep with Viktor.

“Just one detail,” Phichit wheedles, and Yuuri sighs, a thousand details flashing through his mind. The way Viktor’s scent changes when he’s aroused. The weight and heat of Viktor’s cock in his hand. The way that Viktor had kissed him while stroking his cock, the noises Viktor made when he was close, the way he’d laughed, so easy and comfortable, and made Yuuri feel comfortable too—

“He waxes,” Yuuri says.

Phichit raises an eyebrow. “All of it?”

Yuuri shrugs one shoulder. “I liked it.” He pauses, looks down at his coffee. “I like the way he smells, too.” It’s the best scent, musky and floral and _delicious_ —

“He’s an omega, right?” Phichit says, gathering up his makeup paraphernalia from the table. “You don’t usually go for omegas.”

“I don’t usually go for _anyone_ ,” Yuuri counters, but Phichit is right. Yuuri has dated a few people, and back in college he certainly had his fair share of hookups, and most of them were betas and alphas. Phichit himself is an alpha, although he and Yuuri have never had a sexual relationship.

It’s not that he doesn’t like omegas — it’s the opposite, in fact. He _really_ likes omegas, and that scares him. He doesn’t want to be a stereotype.

But he’s never met _anyone_ he likes as much as Viktor.

“When you’re sober, maybe,” Phichit says, checking his messenger bag to make sure he has everything he needs for his workday. “Drunk Yuuri could charm the pants off a statue. It’s your innate sexual magnetism.”

“I don’t have any sexual magnetism,” Yuuri says with a huff.

“Viktor seems to think you do,” Phichit says, winking. He pauses and leans his hand on the back on the chair he’d been sitting in. “I’m really glad you like him, Yuuri.”

“Me too,” Yuuri says, allowing himself a small smile.

“Have you guys talked about what you want? Is he looking for a relationship?”

“I don’t know,” Yuuri says, his stomach twisting. “We haven’t talked. I’d love to date him, but— I’m not sure what he wants.”

Phichit nods, his mouth twisting in a sympathetic grimace. “I’ve been there. Talk to him soon, okay?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, sinking down in his chair. He knows Phichit’s right. It’s still not a conversation he wants to start, though. Not when he’s already so invested.

Phichit checks the time on his phone. “I’ve got to go,” he says. “But keep me updated! Especially if he says yes. You know I give the _best_ shovel talks, Yuuri.”

“I know,” Yuuri says. Phichit thoroughly threatened most of Yuuri’s ex-boyfriends. Not that it had really done much — none of those relationships had lasted longer than a few months. “Have a great day at work, Phich. Take some great pictures.”

Phichit grins widely. “I always do,” he says. “And I followed your Viktor back on Instagram, so I’ll see what he’s up to, anyway,” he adds, waving his phone. “See you tonight!”

“Bye,” Yuuri says, waving back, and then slumps back in his chair when Phichit shuts the front door behind him. _Your Viktor_. Oh, but he wants Viktor to be his. He really, really wants it.

He needs to talk to him. Clearly, he cares far too much to keep it casual. But what is he going to _say?_

 

—

 

“So, Yuuri,” Viktor says over brunch a couple of days later, leaning his head on his hand. They’re at a 50’s style diner which is supposed to have the _best_ hashbrowns in the city. Viktor doesn’t actually like hashbrowns, but Yuuri orders them and confirms that, while they might not be the _best_ , they are very good.

Yuuri looks up at him as he takes a sip of coffee. “Mm?”

“Can I call you my boyfriend?”

Yuuri chokes on his coffee.

“I just want to know where we stand,” Viktor continues blithely.

“You, ah, you want me to be your boyfriend?”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says seriously, reaching over and putting his hand on Yuuri’s forearm. “I would love nothing more.”

“I’d really like that too,” Yuuri says quietly, his ears burning, smiling shyly at Viktor, which hardly conveys the euphoric emotion swelling in his chest.

After that, Viktor takes practically every opportunity to refer to Yuuri as his boyfriend, saying “This is my _boyfriend_ , Yuuri,” when he’s introducing him to Chris and Matthieu, who both smile in a way that Yuuri thinks is far too knowing, and “A table for two, please, I’m dining with my _boyfriend_ ,” at practically every restaurant they go to, and “My _boyfriend_ and I would like two tickets for the 8 p.m. show,” at the movie theater, and Yuuri blushes and doesn’t ever let go of his hand.

In the next couple of months, Yuuri learns a lot of things about Viktor. He learns that the carpet does, in fact, match the drapes, and that Viktor loves hickies, and that Yuuri loves to bite his way up Viktor's thigh to nuzzle against the scent glands in his groin. That Viktor loves Yuuri’s cock, and his stomach, and his thighs, and is very vocal about his praise. That he’s apparently been dreaming for a long time about sucking Yuuri off, and claims that he is “very skilled,” which turns out not to be a lie when he proceeds to slide to his knees and attempts to suck Yuuri's brains out through his dick. That Viktor goes nuts when Yuuri does the same for him. He learns that one of his favorite things is waking up next to Viktor and being greeted with a kiss, which inevitably turns into more and leads to them lazily rubbing off against each other.

Yuuri learns other things as well, for instance that Viktor is a good cook but is hopeless at video games; that he’s a horny drunk, and likes to strip, which fits very well with Yuuri’s own brand of drunkenness; that he has about twenty fancy bottles of hair product in his shower; that he's a morning person; that he firmly believes in letting Makkachin sleep in the bed with him; that he can't really sing but he can dance very well.

The first time that Viktor comes over to Yuuri’s place for dinner, he brings a box of a dozen pastries and a bottle of Phichit’s favorite alcohol, and smiles with his heart in his mouth, and Phichit watches him closely and doesn’t even give him a shovel talk.

“He looks at you like you’re the sun,” Phichit says afterwards, patting Yuuri’s arm. “You picked a good one.”

 

—

 

One night about two months into their relationship (which actually is a relationship, Yuuri gets butterflies in his stomach every time he remembers that yes, Viktor is his _boyfriend_ ), they’re cuddling on Viktor’s couch, watching Monster Factory on Viktor’s laptop. Viktor has been over to Yuuri’s apartment a few times, but Yuuri usually prefers to go to Viktor’s place, because Viktor lives alone and has a bigger bed.

Yuuri had been feeling kind of irritable the whole day, but it went away as soon as he let himself relax with Viktor, and now he’s leaning back against the arm of the couch with his arms around his boyfriend, who is lying on his chest. Now Yuuri feels more comfortable than he has all day, like something loose that was jangling around inside of him has finally fallen into place.

Mindlessly, he twines his fingers with Viktor’s, and then presses their wrists together so that their scent glands touch and Viktor will smell like him for a while. Viktor hums a little, and Yuuri can feel the vibration against his chest. He drops a kiss to the top of Viktor’s head and moves to press his wrist to the scent gland on Viktor’s throat.

Viktor tilts his head to the side, giving him more access, seeming to enjoy the way Yuuri’s nose is buried in his hair.

“Wow, Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, squeezing Yuuri’s thigh. “You really want me to carry your scent, hm?”

Yuuri blinks, and then snatches his wrist away, frowning. That kind of scenting isn’t polite to do without asking, and here he’s just been absentmindedly coating Viktor in himself. He’s lucky that Viktor hasn’t kicked him off the couch.

What’s gotten into him?

Viktor moves to sit up, and Yuuri’s arms instinctively tighten around him, stopping him from leaving. _No_ , his alpha says, _he’s ours, don’t let him go._

“Yuuri?” Viktor says, turning to look him. “I’m just going to get a glass of water.”

Oh shit.

Shit shit shit.

Yuuri lets go of him immediately and curls into as tight a ball as he can, hiding his face in his hands. No no. It can’t be time yet. This isn’t supposed to happen for another month. He’s not prepared—

“Yuuri?” Viktor says again, worried, and a concerned hand touches his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri says, about an octave higher than usual.

Viktor slides an arm around him and no, no, this is dangerous, so Yuuri scrambles off the couch and to the overnight bag he brought, where he always keeps a scent-blocking face mask, just in case. He slips this on and then carefully turns back to Viktor, who now looks hurt as well as confused and worried.

“Did I do something wrong?” Viktor asks, sniffing at himself, keeping his eyes fixed on Yuuri. “Do you not like how I smell anymore?”

“No, of course I do,” Yuuri says, trying to sound reassuring, but the effect is somewhat lost as he’s speaking through a material that’s specifically designed to block his sense of smell. “You’re fine, Vitya. You’re great. I just— something came up. I need to go.”

“You’re leaving?” Viktor stands up from the couch, eyes large, a frown troubling his brow. Yuuri wants to smooth it out and kiss that look off his face, keep him safe and warm—

“Yes. Sorry. I, um, I’m sorry. Goodnight, Viktor,” he says, and rushes out the door.

 

—

 

 **Viktor:** Yuuri?  
**Viktor:** Are you okay?  
**Viktor:** Whatever I did, I'm really sorry  
**Viktor:** I didn't mean to make you leave  
**Viktor:** I'm worried about you

Yuuri stares down at the messages on his phone, feeling guilty and awful. Viktor had sent them shortly after Yuuri left, but Yuuri hadn’t wanted to look at them until he got home, in case he turned his car around and went right back to Viktor. Now, curled up on his bed with Vicchan, part of him really wishes that he did go back; the irritable, jangly feeling is flooding him, twice as strong as before, and his clothes feel too harsh against his skin, and all he wants is Viktor, holding him. Viktor would make him feel calm.

 _I’m sorry_ , Yuuri starts to type out, but then sighs and deletes it. Viktor deserves better than a half-assed apology. But Yuuri’s not sure how to explain himself over text: _sorry, seems like my pre-rut hit early and I got scared and ran away, haha!_

He really shouldn’t have freaked out the way he did. But the thing is, he wasn’t prepared. His rut shouldn’t be happening for another month. He’d been planning to casually mention it to Viktor in about two weeks, just let him know that he wouldn’t see Yuuri for a few days and not to worry. He hadn’t been expecting his pre-rut to announce itself by having him just start heavily scenting Viktor on his couch one night, feeling more comfortable and safe than he’s felt in years.

He really should have recognized the symptoms earlier — the possessiveness, the oversensitivity to other people’s scents, the way he flinched away earlier when his coworker touched his arm — but it’s so early that he hadn’t even considered it. Yuuri sighs and pushes his glasses up, scrubbing at his eyes. He feels prickly and aggravated and his whole brain is focused on Viktor, _where’s Viktor, we need him, why did we leave him_ , because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that Viktor is good and Yuuri needs to be taking care of him.

 _No_ , Yuuri tells himself firmly. That’s the hormones talking. There’s no way he’s springing a rut on his boyfriend of barely two months, his boyfriend whom he would very much like to keep and not frighten away, thank you very much.

He’s heard of ruts being triggered early sometimes, but it’s never happened to him before. But then, he hasn’t ever really felt this strongly about someone before. It’s likely that his hormones got ahead of themselves and sped up his cycle in a terrible, instinctive attempt to declare his interest in pursuing Viktor as a partner. Incredibly inconvenient, but likely.

He needs to answer Viktor’s texts. It’s been too long. Yuuri pets Vicchan, trying to calm himself, and then opens his phone and reads Viktor’s messages again. He still feels weird typing out anything similar to _I’m going into rut and it’s probably because I’m so attracted to you_ , and again he fervently wishes that he’d stayed with Viktor, talked it out with him in person.

But no. His instinct to get away was smart. He’s not even sure what he’s afraid he might have done, but it’s better to get his thoughts together here, alone.

 **Yuuri:** Hey  
**Yuuri:** It absolutely wasn’t your fault  
**Yuuri:** I’m fine. It’s a personal thing

Yuuri cringes a little after he sends that. It feels so cold and impersonal. He hopes Viktor isn’t too angry.

 **Yuuri:** I’ll call you in the morning and we can talk, is that okay?

The bubble indicating that Viktor is typing pops up almost immediately.

 **Viktor:** Okay  
**Viktor:** Whatever it is, I’m here for you  
**Viktor:** ♥︎

Yuuri presses the phone to his chest and squeezes his eyes shut. Tears prick hot behind his eyelids. How is he so _sweet?_ Yuuri doesn’t deserve any of this.

He lets out a shaky breath and rubs at his eyes again, harder this time. It’s going to be okay. He’ll explain to Viktor in the morning and then he’ll seclude himself for a most of a miserable week.

Five whole days without Viktor.

How is he going to survive?

 

—

 

Viktor wakes up in the morning and feels utterly and absolutely miserable. His whole body is like one exposed nerve, flayed raw, and he sucks in a breath, curling in on himself. He’s not actually in pain, not physically at least, but it feels like he’s got a pound of lead in his stomach, and a wave of despair washes over him so strong he can barely breath.

 _Yuuri_ , is his immediate and only thought, _Yuuri Yuuri_ , he needs him now, needs him to be here, why is he far away, and almost in a panic Viktor fumbles for his phone on the nightstand. He grabs it and has his thumb over Yuuri’s number in his list of Favorites when the rest of his brain catches up to him and he stops, freezing.

He can’t just call Yuuri at 9 a.m. and ask him to come over right now, please, ten minutes ago would be nice. That’s not a socially acceptable thing to do. He can’t be clingy and needy and desperate like that.

Especially not when Yuuri suddenly closed off the way he did last night, like he was disgusted by Viktor and couldn’t get away fast enough. _It’s a personal thing_ , Yuuri’s cryptic text said, but what does that _mean_ , and it’s hard not to take it personally when Yuuri put on a fucking scent mask to block him out.

He doesn’t even feel angry, is the thing, just hurt, and worried about Yuuri, and it doesn’t help that his omega is wailing like a wounded animal.

Viktor lets out a harsh sigh and drops his head onto his fists. He feels itchy all over and hot, his skin prickly and feverish, shaking from the inside out, and he grits his teeth, willing the sensations in his body to quiet down. He feels like he does when he’s going into heat, and—

Viktor’s eyes pop open.

No. Impossible. His last heat was two months ago, the next one shouldn’t come on until two more months from now. Right? He never gets them this close together.

But he has that weird fluttery feeling he always gets, and sure enough when his hands fly to his neck he can feel his scent glands swollen and sensitive under his skin.

Before Viktor can even figure out what to do, his phone rings in his hand. He looks down at it, surprised, and sees Yuuri’s picture on the screen. He scrabbles to answer it before it has a chance to ring a second time.

“Yuuri?”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, and Viktor’s heart clenches, oh God, just hearing him is enough to calm something inside of him and rile him even further at the same time.

“Yes, it’s me,” Viktor says, dazed.

Yuuri’s voice is rough from sleep and sounds distraught. “Can I come over? I just— I need—” he pauses, and Viktor hears him let out a breath. “I mean— I’m sorry, never mind, I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s nothing.”

“No, please,” Viktor says, because all he’s thinking right now is that he needs Yuuri here right now. “Please come over. I wish—” Viktor shuts his eyes, squeezes a hand in his hair. Yuuri might as well know. “I think I’m in pre-heat.”

There’s silence on the other end of the line. “Oh no,” Yuuri whispers quietly.

Viktor had been sitting up, but he collapses down onto the mattress now, because if that’s Yuuri’s reaction, if Yuuri doesn’t want him— Viktor’s not sure what he’ll do, but he can’t spend another heat alone. The last one was so awful.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri says, sounding mortified. “Um, I think that might be my fault?”

Viktor barely hears him, staring down the prospect of another heat without Yuuri. “What do you mean?”

“My rut came on early. It wasn’t supposed to happen for another month, but I’m definitely in pre-rut now. That’s why I was so weird last night. I’m sorry. And I guess I must have triggered your heat too, when I scented you like that. I, um, I understand if you’re angry at me.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, taking in a lot of information at once.

“So,” Yuuri says, and then stops.

“I’m not angry at you, Yuuri,” Viktor says, his heart aching. _That’s_ what Yuuri was upset about? So simple!

“Oh. Good,” Yuuri says, his sigh of relief curling down the line. “So I guess I won’t come over, then. Too much— stuff.”

“No,” Viktor says immediately, instinctively, before he can help himself. “Please come. I need to see you. I’m so—” his breath hitches, and he can hear Yuuri’s sharp intake of breath.

“Okay. I’m coming, Vitya, I’ll be right there,” he says.

“Okay,” Viktor croaks, nodding against the phone.

 

—

 

Yuuri arrives fifteen minutes later and Viktor wonders how fast he drove to get here that quickly, but he doesn’t say anything as he greets Yuuri in the doorway, just gathers him into his arms and scents him furiously. His heart feels a little less raw, holding him.

“It's good to see you,” Yuuri murmurs into his shoulder, scenting him back just as hard. Viktor takes a deep breath. Smelling like Yuuri stills the fluttering thing inside of him, even if only temporarily.

“You too,” Viktor says, and then “Do you want to come inside?” because they're still standing in the open doorway and Makkachin is trying to nose his way in between them to greet Yuuri, wagging his tail insistently.

Viktor is mostly on autopilot, so he leads Yuuri to his bed, because he wants to curl up with him somewhere safe and warm. He only realizes that this might be somewhat suggestive when Yuuri pauses just inside the bedroom door.

“Oh,” Viktor says. “Is this okay?”

He doesn’t want Yuuri to think that he’s crazy with heat-fever, that he’s going to pull him down onto the bed and ravish him or something like that. He knows he smells distinctly like pre-heat, like nesting and warmth, not the intense lip-biting need of a full heat, but some people get nervous around omegas anyway.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, squeezing Viktor’s hand. “It smells like you.”

Viktor smiles at him and sits down on the edge of the bed, taking both of Yuuri's hands and pulling him close, so that he's standing between Viktor's legs.

“Is that a good thing, my Yuuri?”

“It's good,” Yuuri says, tilting Viktor's head up to kiss his forehead before burying his nose in Viktor’s hair. Viktor hums happily and closes his eyes, wrapping his arms around Yuuri's waist. Yuuri is here, his alpha, taking care of him, and Viktor's omega is purring with contentment.

Yuuri can’t be very comfortable standing there, though, so Viktor detaches himself and crawls further onto the bed. He pulls Yuuri down next to him so that he can wrap himself octopus-like around him, with an arm over Yuuri’s chest, a leg thrown across Yuuri’s hips, his other hand playing gently with Yuuri's hair. Yuuri turns towards him, his arms closing around Viktor, and Viktor makes a happy noise, nosing against Yuuri's neck, breathing him in. Yuuri's scent has definitely changed, and Viktor can smell the pre-rut on him now, spicier and sharper than usual.

People tend to complain about alphas’ pre-rut scents; just the other day, Viktor was watching one of his favorite sitcoms and a character complained about someone “stinking up the place like an alpha.” Viktor had been a bit offended, thinking of Yuuri, and now he’s even moreso. Yuuri doesn’t _stink_. If anything, the change in his scent only make Viktor want him _more_ , and he knows that's probably just the pheromones, but he can't help that he was built to react to this, especially in pre-heat, so he just presses in closer, wedges himself tighter against Yuuri’s side.

“Vitya…” Yuuri says, troubled, and that's not a happy tone, and the thought that Yuuri isn't happy makes that fluttery feeling return, so as much as Viktor doesn't want to let go of him, he pushes himself up onto his elbow so he can meet Yuuri’s eyes.

“This is really nice, but I don't want to get too comfortable,” Yuuri says. “I mean, I'm going to have to leave pretty soon.”

 _No_ , Viktor's omega screams, _no_ and _why_ and _no._

“Why?” Viktor asks, confused, hurt starting to crawl its way back up his throat. Does Yuuri not like it here, not want to be here, not want to join him?

“Well—” Yuuri bites his lip. His hand is still playing along Viktor's side like he can't help himself, even though he looks uneasy. “I really like being with you, Vitya, and I don't want to surprise you with this. It’s so sudden, you know? I really wanted to see you, and I'll stay for a little bit, but if I settle in too much, I won’t be able to make myself go.”

 _Don't let him leave us_ , Viktor's omega cries.

“Oh,” Viktor says, eyes downcast, playing with the edge of Yuuri's sleeve. “I was hoping… hoping that you would spend this heat with me, Yuuri.”

Yuuri is silent for a minute, and when Viktor looks at him he's just staring.

“Are you serious?”

His tone is so incredulous that Viktor doesn't know whether it's a serious or sarcastic question. He hopes it's not sarcastic, although he doesn't understand why the idea of Yuuri staying with him is so impossible to consider. Isn't it obvious how much Viktor wants him?

Is Viktor, once again, more invested than his partner?

He feels his heart crack a little at that thought, so he simply says “Yes, I'm serious,” and waits for Yuuri to answer.

“I mean…” Yuuri licks his lips. “That’s a big step, Vitya. I don’t want to make you feel like you have to do that just because I stupidly triggered both of us early.”

“You’re not making me do anything,” Viktor says. “Please, I need you. I know there’s a lot of… stigma around heats, with all the sex stuff. We don’t have to do any of that, if you don’t want to. I can take care of myself. I just want to have you close to me.”

“No, that’s not— that’s not the issue,” Yuuri says. “It’s just, it’s such an intimate thing, and…” He looks down at his hands. “Are you sure you won’t regret it, afterwards?”

Viktor stares at him for a minute, his hand frozen on Yuuri’s arm. Is that a real question? Viktor, who has a Pinterest board dedicated to his and Yuuri’s future wedding, which he updates and cries over sometimes when he’s drunk? This Viktor? Regret it?

“I’m sure,” Viktor says.

Yuuri still doesn’t look convinced, frowning into the middle distance.

“Yuuri, my last heat was awful,” Viktor says bluntly. “I was alone, and I’ve had heats alone before, they’re never great — I mean none of my heats are ever great, but this one was especially bad because of how much I was longing for you.”

Yuuri’s attention snaps onto him. “You were longing for _me?”_

“I was,” Viktor says, nuzzling into him, not caring that he’s laying all his cards on the table if only it will make Yuuri _stay_. “So much, Yuuri, and this time it’ll be even worse because now I know what it’s like to have you here. Please, don’t make me go through that again.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes. He tips Viktor’s head up so that he can kiss him on the lips, and then he whispers, “Okay.”

“Okay? So you’ll stay?”

“I’ll stay,” Yuuri says, looking at him with gentle adoration. He kisses him again, and Viktor melts into him, grateful and overwhelmed with affection and _stay, stay, stay._

After a minute Yuuri pulls away, looking concerned again. Viktor’s heart clenches, terrified that Yuuri has changed his mind, but Yuuri just says, “What do you mean, your heats are never great?”

“Oh, that,” Viktor says, relieved. “It’s nothing. I just usually feel lonely and sad afterwards, even when I’m with a partner. It’s not a big deal.”

“That doesn’t sound very good,” Yuuri says, frowning.

“It will be so much better with you here,” Viktor assures him, cuddling against him.

Yuuri frowns some more, and then his face settles into a determined expression. “Alright,” he says. “I’m going to give you the best heat you’ve ever had.”

Viktor laughs, squeezing Yuuri’s side. “Wow, Yuuri,” he says, and kisses Yuuri’s neck. “I know you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now you can see where this is headed ;) surprise! (no one should be surprised that there's tons of smut on the horizon)
> 
> playlist for this fic [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on youtube because spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!
> 
> the next chapter will be the pre-heat/pre-rut :)


	5. can't keep my hands to myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they nest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been reading all the comments with a huge smile on my face ♥︎ you make me so happy! I hope this story continues to make you happy as well!

They go out later that day and stop by Yuuri’s apartment so that Yuuri can pack some things, like his toothbrush and some comfortable clothes, and then Viktor hovers awkwardly in the background while Yuuri quietly explains to Phichit that his rut came on early and he’ll be staying at Viktor’s place for the next week. Phichit’s eyes go narrow, and then very wide, and he taps his fingers together excitedly.

“Normally, I’d say an early rut is terrible news, but I think I’d better congratulate you instead,” he says, grinning devilishly at Yuuri before glancing over at Viktor. Viktor pretends to be very interested in a poster for _The King and the Skater_ that’s hanging on the wall.

“So, could you take care of Vicchan for me? Feed him and walk him and give him attention?” Yuuri says, skillfully ignoring Phichit’s obvious allusion to the animalistic sex he clearly imagines they’ll be having.

“Oh, of course,” Phichit says with a wink. “Don’t worry, he’ll be in good hands.” He waves his hands to demonstrate.

“Thanks, Phich,” Yuuri says, leaning in to hug him tightly. “You’re the best.”

And even though Viktor knows that Yuuri and Phichit are _friends,_ roommates, nothing more, something inside him twinges unpleasantly at the sight of someone else’s arms around him, someone else getting their scent on his skin. This is probably what jealousy feels like, Viktor thinks, glaring at Phichit until Yuuri releases him and steps back.

“I’ll see you in a week,” Yuuri says, crossing the room and taking Viktor’s hand. The jealous thing inside of Viktor lessens a little, but Yuuri doesn’t smell entirely like him anymore, which he doesn’t like. He knows he must be dumping pre-heat scent into the room, and Phichit has been very polite not to comment on it, so Viktor really doesn’t want to complain. But during his pre-heat, Viktor is very sensitive to alphas’ scents in particular, and the scent of another alpha on Yuuri is enough to make his hair stand on end.

“Call me if you need anything,” Phichit says. “Have fun, you crazy kids.”

“I’m older than you,” Yuuri says, and Phichit sticks his tongue out at him.

“Bye, Phichit,” Viktor says brightly.

Outside, Viktor wraps his arms around Yuuri from behind, sending a wave of his own scent onto him. Better.

“What was that for?” Yuuri asks, laughing, holding onto Viktor’s arms around his chest.

Now that he’s resolved the issue, Viktor feels kind of foolish. “Nothing,” he says, and buries his face in Yuuri's shoulder.

“Did I smell too much like Phichit?” Yuuri says, still laughing.

“Yuuuuri,” Viktor complains, embarrassed now that he had such a disproportionate, ridiculously possessive reaction to Yuuri hugging his friend, of all things. He doesn't want to act crazy. He doesn't want Yuuri to think he's acting crazy.

Yuuri turns around in Viktor's arms and hugs him properly. “I don't want you to smell like anyone else, either,” he says softly.

 

—

 

At the grocery store, they stock up on food for the week, including Viktor’s heat staples of coconut water, lemon butter cookies, and lots of fresh berries, which he always craves. Post-heat, he rarely feels like cooking anything, and usually gets a large protein-rich meal delivered from one of his favorite restaurants.

“Is there anything you want, my Yuuri?” Viktor asks, after he’s selected everything for himself.

“This all looks really good,” Yuuri says. “I usually just survive on energy bars during my rut, so this is much nicer. Although, uh,” he stops and swallows. “Um, we should get condoms, too.”

Viktor's mouth pops open into a delighted smile. “Yeah?” he asks, reaching for Yuuri's hand, ecstatic at what Yuuri is implying, and he quickly runs through a mental catalogue of the sex supplies he has at home. He still has a mostly-full bottle of lube, so that should be enough. Viktor himself rarely needs lube during a heat, but it’s always better to be prepared.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, smiling shyly, squeezing Viktor's hand. He’s blushing up to his ears, but he doesn’t stop Viktor from grabbing a package of normal condoms and a package of the ones designed to fit over an alpha’s knot. Viktor isn’t sure what Yuuri wants to do, and he doesn’t exactly want to ask him in the middle of a store, but he wants to be prepared for anything.

As they leave the store, shopping bags in hand, a woman brushes past Viktor on her way in, and Yuuri clutches possessively at Viktor’s arm, pulling him closer. Viktor puts his arm around him, always happy to be closer to Yuuri, and barely notices the way Yuuri’s nostrils flare as he turns his head, tracking the woman’s progress into the store.

After they get into Viktor’s car, Yuuri slumps in the passenger seat, burying his face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” Viktor asks, reaching out for him, completely lost.

“I almost growled at that lady,” he says, peeking up at Viktor through his fingers. He sounds mortified. “Just because she got close to you.”

Viktor is over the moon. “You did? Yuuri, for me?”

Yuuri nods slowly. “I guess I’m feeling extra protective. I’m not usually like this, I promise.”

 _He wants to protect us_ , Viktor’s omega sings in delight.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, squeezing Yuuri’s knee. “I’m so flattered.”

“Oh,” Yuuri says, dropping his hands and turning to face him fully, his cheeks still pink. “Um. You liked that?”

“I like everything you do,” Viktor says sincerely. He throws Yuuri a wink and doesn’t add, _especially when you get possessive_. “I can’t wait to get you home. All to myself.”

At home, despite his bold claim in the car, all Viktor wants to do after putting the groceries away is change into soft, comfortable clothes and cuddle with Yuuri on the bed. His sex drive is pretty low during his pre-heat, which is normal — it’s like his body is storing up energy in preparation. His drive for intimacy, however, is extremely high, and he wants tender touches and kisses, wants to wrap himself around Yuuri and breath in his delicious scent until he’s filled with it.

Yuuri, luckily, seems very pleased with this course of action, and lets Viktor pull him down and snuggle up with him, melting into his arms as Viktor hums and purrs happily. Yuuri is soft and perfect, so good to cuddle with. Viktor hasn’t felt this content during a pre-heat — maybe ever? He can’t believe how good he feels, barely even feverish, just warm and pleased as he rests his head on Yuuri’s chest, limbs wrapped snugly around him. His scent glands itch dully under his skin, but it’s nowhere near unbearable, and Yuuri’s hand on his back, his soft breath stirring his hair, makes Viktor feel like he’s home.

Something's bothering him, though, anxious on the edges of his mind, and he cracks open his eyes to see what the problem is. Having Yuuri here is wonderful, but still the bed is too flat. The open edges out of the corner of his eye make him nervous. He needs to be safe, build a sheltered space for himself and his partner, keep them both out of harm’s way.

He sits up and smiles at Yuuri’s startled face, the concerned question that starts to form on his lips.

“It’s okay,” Viktor says, “you can stay here,” and he gets up and goes to the closet where he stores his extra pillows and the heat sheets.

He’s lifting the pillows out of their bin when arms close around his waist, folding him in an embrace. Viktor gasps, dropping the set of sheets that’s tucked under his arm.

“Can I help?” Yuuri asks, kissing his shoulder.

 _No_ , Viktor means to say, _I can take care of it, don’t worry_ , but what comes out of his mouth instead is, “Would you help me strip the bed?”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, eyes shining.

And Viktor really doesn’t want to be a burden to him, but he can’t help the feeling that rises in his chest at the sight of Yuuri helping him, taking care of him, doting on him, Yuuri’s small smile as they remake the bed with the faded heat sheets.  

“Thank you,” Viktor murmurs afterwards, pulling Yuuri close by his hips and kissing him.

“Of course,” Yuuri says, looking a little confused, but pleased at the kisses nonetheless.

Viktor kisses him one more time and then picks up his pile of pillows and dumps them onto the bed. They smell like they’ve been lying unused in the closet for a couple of months, which Viktor doesn’t like. He wants them to smell like Yuuri. Everything should smell like Yuuri.

Well. There’s an easy way to fix that.

Yuuri, it turns out, shrieks in the cutest way when he’s pushed down into a pile of pillows and tickled mercilessly.

“Vitya, Vitya, stop, I’m so ticklish,” he squeaks out, between gales of breathless laughter, squirming under Viktor’s hands.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Viktor says, squeezing Yuuri’s sides. “What about here?”

“ _Yes_ , there,” Yuuri says, kicking his leg out and almost kneeing Viktor in the stomach. “Vitya, come _on_ , don’t _—_ ”

Yuuri rolls away, trying to escape Viktor’s devilish fingers, and Viktor goes after him, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Yuuri tenses, ready to flee, but when Viktor just holds him, he relaxes into the embrace.

“That was terrible,” Yuuri complains. “My boyfriend is so mean to me.”

“Oh no,” Viktor says into Yuuri’s hair. “What can I ever do to earn your forgiveness?”

Yuuri turns over in Viktor’s arms so that they’re facing each other. “Nothing,” he says, his palm warm against Viktor’s chest, his breath warm against Viktor’s lips. “I don’t forgive.”

“You don’t?”

“No,” Yuuri says, leaning in close. Viktor’s eyes flutter in anticipation of a kiss. “I get revenge,” Yuuri says, and then he’s on top of Viktor and tickling him all over as Viktor squawks in surprise and tries to twist away.

They end up with Yuuri braced over Viktor, staring down into his eyes, both of them panting slightly. Viktor swallows, his lips parting as he feels the mood shift suddenly. He can’t be blamed for it, he thinks, when he’s got such a beautiful man kneeling over him, looking at him like _that_ , with lips that are gently parted and so plump and perfect for kissing. Yuuri’s scent drifts over him, warm and spicy and tingling with pre-rut, and Viktor reaches up and pulls him down, sliding their mouths together, _needing_ him. Yuuri huffs half a breath and cradles Viktor’s head, sinking down on top of him, straddling him as he presses Viktor into the rudimentary beginnings of his nest, kissing him passionately.

And honestly — Viktor isn’t _used_ to this, to have it feel so _right_ to have his partner here with him before his heat, to have Yuuri nesting with him.

He’s so engrossed in the kiss that he almost misses it when Yuuri starts purring, subtle vibrations that slowly build until they’re deep and thrumming, echoing through Viktor’s chest too where they’re pressed together.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, elated that Yuuri is so happy, that Yuuri is purring for _him_. Everyone is able to purr during heats and ruts, and although some people can purr on command, most will only do it when they feel safe and content, usually only with a partner whom they trust and love. To know that Yuuri feels comfortable enough to do that — a wave of delight rolls through Viktor, and he purrs back loudly, wrapping his legs around Yuuri, feeling safe and warm. During his last heat, he hadn’t purred at all.

Yuuri grins and kisses across Viktor’s jaw, moving down to kiss his neck too, sucking and marking him up, which makes Viktor thrill with pleasure, to have his alpha claiming him in a physical, visible way. Yuuri is the first person with whom Viktor has really _liked_ hickies. He likes them especially much now, going into his heat, when he wants to _belong_ to someone. He really wants to belong to Yuuri.

Yuuri places sweet kisses on the scent glands on both sides of Viktor’s neck before moving back up to his mouth again, and Viktor moans, able to taste his own scent on Yuuri’s lips.

“You taste like me,” Viktor says against Yuuri’s lips, and Yuuri purrs harder.

“Do you like that?” he asks, before sucking on Viktor’s bottom lip.

“Yeah,” Viktor says, breathless, when Yuuri lets him have his lip back, “it’s really hot.” He wants Yuuri to be covered in his scent almost as much as he wants to be covered in Yuuri’s. He wants Yuuri to stay right here and never leave.

“I like it too,” Yuuri says, low and heated, and leans back in to lick sloppily into Viktor’s mouth, one hand on Viktor’s face, the other cradling the back of his head. Viktor is pleased beyond belief, his omega humming with joy at having managed to catch such a caring, attentive alpha.

 _I didn’t catch him_ , Viktor tells himself, _he chose me_ , and honestly that’s even better.

“How do you get through your heats normally?” Yuuri asks a little later, when their kisses have softened into sweet pecks and mostly they’re just curled around each other, purring as loud as car engines. Yuuri’s head is on Viktor’s chest, his ear pressed to his sternum so that he can “hear better.” Viktor luxuriates in the awareness that Yuuri enjoys the sound, that Yuuri wants him to be happy and comfortable.

“Hmm?” Viktor asks, playing with Yuuri’s hair, completely distracted.

“When you’re alone,” Yuuri says. “What do you do?”

“Oh,” Viktor says, still running his fingers through the dark strands of Yuuri’s hair. “Well, my pre-heats are usually feverish and uncomfortable. Nothing I can really do about that. I’m feeling so good right now, this isn’t normal for me.” He pauses to kiss Yuuri’s forehead. “And then for the heats themselves, I have toys that I use.”

“Can I see?” Yuuri asks, propping himself up on his elbow, trailing his other hand down Viktor’s neck.

“You want to see my toys?”

“I want to know what you like,” Yuuri says, leaning in to nibble at Viktor’s ear. Viktor shivers, both from Yuuri’s breath against his sensitive skin and his words. _I barely even know what_ I _like when I’m in heat_ , he wants to say, but Yuuri is too distracting and the words fly right out of his brain.

“Okay,” he says instead, and extracts himself from Yuuri’s arms, crawling up the bed to open the middle drawer in his nightstand.

He has a nice collection, including his favorite knotting dildo, butt plugs of various sizes (several of which vibrate), the pretty pink dildo with the glass base, a vibrating cock ring, and a fleshlight. He should maybe feel embarrassed, he thinks, but he doesn’t really — Yuuri _asked_ to see.

Yuuri crawls up behind him and hooks his chin over Viktor’s shoulder, sliding his arm around Viktor’s side. He hums in Viktor’s ear, peering into the drawer.

“Which is your favorite?” Yuuri asks.

Wordlessly, Viktor reaches in and takes out the knotting dildo. It’s light blue, a nice size, and the knot is inflatable, with a hand pump attached at the bottom. Viktor likes it compared to other knotting dildos he’s had in the past because the manual pump means that he can make the knot as large or small as he wants, whenever he wants. Usually, he likes it very large.

Yuuri makes an appreciative noise. “This is nice,” he says, taking it from Viktor and turning it over in his hands before inflating the knot a bit. He wraps his hand around it and raises an eyebrow. “Solid.”

“It has some give,” Viktor says, trying not to blush at the sight of Yuuri handling this toy. He’s thinking back to how he’d stretched himself open with that knot during his last heat, doing his best to imagine it was Yuuri.

Yuuri deflates the knot and delicately places the dildo back in the drawer, reaching instead for the cock ring. “Do you want to use any of these during your heat this time?” he asks, turning it on and letting it buzz in his hand.

“No,” Viktor says immediately. “I only want you.”

“I can do that,” Yuuri says, smiling. He turns the vibration off and puts the toy back in the drawer, and then leans in to kiss Viktor, long and slow.

“It’s a good collection,” Yuuri says when he pulls away, running his fingers down the side of Viktor’s face. “You should be proud.”

Viktor smiles, flushing a little at the praise. Which is ridiculous, they’re talking about sex toys — but if Yuuri tells him to be proud, Viktor’s going to be goddamn proud.

 

—

 

Chris arrives the next morning to pick up Makkachin, who bounds up to him as soon as the door opens. Viktor greets him with Makkachin’s leash and Makkachin’s food and Makkachin’s dog bed, which Chris refuses to take because “my cat is already traumatized enough, Vitya, I don't need to also add new furniture that smells like a dog.”

“He’ll just sleep on your existing furniture, then,” Viktor says, kneeling down and clipping Makkachin’s leash on. “You're going to stay with Uncle Chris for a few days, Makka,” he says to the dog, waggling Makkachin’s face between his hands. “I'll miss you, but he'll take good care of you, okay?”

Makkachin pants happily and tries to lick his face.

Chris is sniffing the air, looking curious and intrigued. “Vitya, is someone else here?”

Viktor looks up at him, then stands up a little sheepishly. When he'd told Chris that he was having an early heat and asked him if he would look after Makkachin, he hadn't actually mentioned _why_ his heat was so early. Which was weird, because he tells Chris _everything_ , but when he went to type it out, something made him want to keep Yuuri all to himself.

“Yuuri’s here,” he says.

Chris’s eyebrows go up and his jaw goes down. “You're spending it with Yuuri? And you didn't tell me? Vitya!” He sniffs again, and his eyes widen further. “Is he in rut?” he asks, dropping his voice to a stage whisper.

“Yeah,” Viktor says.

Chris whistles. “My goodness, _cheri_ ,” he says. “He smells amazing.”

Viktor takes an unconscious step forward. “He's mine,” he says, and then realizes how hostile he's acting, towards his best friend, who is _bonded_ and definitely not trying to hit on Yuuri. “Ah. Sorry,” he adds, stepping back, chastened.

Chris laughs, putting his hands up. “Oh, he’s definitely yours,” he says. “I don't think anyone would dare fight you for him.”

Viktor feels an unwarranted rush of pride.

“So, I'll see you in several days,” Chris says, taking Makkachin’s leash from Viktor and taking the dog food as well. “Call me when you want your fur baby to come home.”

“Thanks, Chris,” Viktor says, feeling a small pang as Chris starts to walk away with Makkachin, who trots ahead of him, excited about his new adventure. It's okay, he reminds himself, Makkachin will be back in a few days. He just feels extra attached to everything he loves right now.

“Have fun~” Chris sings, waving, and Viktor waves back and shuts the door. He turns to see Yuuri watching him from the bedroom door with heated eyes and sleep-tousled hair.

“Did you mean that?” he asks.

 _Shit_ , Viktor's brain says, while at the same time his omega purrs in pleased possessive contentment, which is a confusing combination of feelings.

“Um,” he says.

Yuuri pads across the room to him and curls his fists in the front of Viktor's shirt.

“When you said that I'm yours,” he says. “Did you mean it?”

Viktor would normally be more cautious, not want to take things too fast, but right now he just wants to curl around Yuuri and not let anyone else touch him, and Yuuri is so close and Viktor feels intoxicated on his very presence.

“Yeah,” he says. “I meant it.”

Yuuri's hands tighten in Viktor's shirt and he leans up to kiss him deep and hot, pressing himself up against Viktor's body like he was meant to be there.

“I like that,” Yuuri says, breaking away to look Viktor in the eyes before kissing him again.

“Oh,” Viktor mumbles, letting his hands creep up under Yuuri’s shirt, distracted by his warm skin. “Well, good.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says insistently, sliding his hands up to cradle Viktor’s face. He meets Viktor’s gaze again, eyes heavy-lidded and intent. “You’re mine, too.”

The statement is accompanied by a strong burst of scent that crackles over Viktor’s skin, leaving him a little light-headed and a little out of breath and all his attention focused on Yuuri, _YES_ ringing loudly in his mind and leaving no room for anything else.

“ _Yes_ , Yuuri,” Viktor says, diving in to bury his nose in Yuuri’s neck, and Yuuri pushes him up against the door, shoving a leg between his thighs and pushing his tongue into Viktor’s mouth insistently, letting Viktor moan and go limp against him and stick his cold hands up his shirt.  

When supporting Viktor against the door becomes too much — or not enough, Viktor can’t tell anymore — Yuuri bends down and scoops Viktor up in his arms, bridal style, carrying him easily into the bedroom. Viktor’s breath leaves his body at the feeling of being held by Yuuri’s strong arms, supporting his weight like it’s nothing. He purrs and loops his arms around Yuuri’s neck, nuzzling into his shoulder until Yuuri sets him down gently on the bed, in his nest, and then climbs on top of him, kissing him deeply as Viktor wraps all his limbs around Yuuri’s body and moans shamelessly into his mouth.

Yuuri’s soft, strong frame pressing down on him feels like heaven. He slides his hands through Yuuri’s hair, moving his hips just enough to be suggestive.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, pulling back for a moment, looking kiss-bitten and flushed. He smoothes Viktor’s hair off his forehead, and Viktor pushes his head further into Yuuri’s hand, baring his throat. Yuuri eyes it hungrily and then drops his head down, sucking hard on Viktor’s skin. Viktor gasps and cradles Yuuri’s head. _I’m his, I’m his_ , he thinks, loving the feeling of Yuuri’s mouth. He feels cared for and adored, his omega singing in perfect contentment.

They tire themselves out eventually, and their passionate kisses become sweeter and softer, traded lazily as Yuuri lies with his head on Viktor’s shoulder.

“Your nest is so lovely,” Yuuri says softly, and Viktor feels a hum of pride in his chest. He’s made a semi-circular wall of pillows that surrounds them, enclosing them and keeping them safe. It’s lined with his two favorite fuzzy blankets and also a t-shirt and a scarf that Yuuri left at his place. The whole thing smells like Yuuri. Viktor is very pleased.

For his last heat, he’d built his nest small, tight enough that it felt like the pillows were hugging him when he curled up inside it. Now, building a nest large enough for two people has unlocked something tender inside of him, something he can’t quite articulate but which makes him feel like his heart is squeezing warmly every time he thinks of it.

“You like it?” Viktor asks, hugging Yuuri tighter. “I made it with you in mind.”

“I do,” Yuuri says. “I like it a lot. Thank you for letting me share it.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, kissing his temple, the breath punched out of him at the thought of _not_ letting Yuuri share his nest. It’s unthinkable. “Of course. I want you here. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, with a small smile. “It’s just… hard to believe sometimes, you know?”

“Have you spent a rut with anyone before?” Viktor asks, suddenly curious.

“No,” Yuuri says. “Is that bad?”

“Not at all,” Viktor assures him, trying to hide the excitement and fear that bursts inside of him. He’s Yuuri’s first rut partner. _If you fuck this up, I swear I’m going to kill you,_ Viktor thinks at himself.

Then— _I’ve literally_ never _had a good heat_ , he replies back to the first thought. _How am I going to make it good for him?_

 _Willpower_ , Viktor tells himself, and then realizes he needs to stop having a conversation with himself, because he’s in the middle of a real conversation with Yuuri.

“It’s just surprising to me,” he says, stroking Yuuri’s hair. “You’re so desirable.”

Yuuri huffs a small laugh. “I did bring it up with my ex once,” he says. “We’d been dating for a few months, I thought he might want to? But, uh, he said no.”

Viktor is shocked. Viktor literally cannot imagine what cruel empty husk of a person would say _no_ to Katsuki Yuuri offering to spend his rut with them.

“I hope you dumped him immediately,” Viktor manages to say, after a minute.

“Well, I should have,” Yuuri said. “But I let things drag on for a while longer before I realized he wasn’t right for me.”

“I’m glad,” Viktor says suddenly, fiercely, meaning: _I’m glad he wasn’t right for you. I’m glad you’re right for me._

Yuuri surprises him by saying, “Me too,” and looking at him with soft eyes.

“But anyway,” Yuuri adds after a minute, looking away, “I’ve never spent a rut with anyone before, so I don’t know— I mean I’ll do my best, obviously, but I don’t know if I’ll do a good job of taking care of you—”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” Viktor says, stretching luxuriously. It’s almost funny; Yuuri, worried about taking care of Viktor, when Viktor already feels the most content he’s ever felt during a pre-heat.

“But—” Yuuri starts, looking worried, “I want you to be happy, and I’ve been doing research but I don’t have any experience with this, so—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, taking Yuuri’s face between his hands, “I promise you’re doing great. One of the guys I dated in the past didn’t even nest with me beforehand. He said that nests made him claustrophobic, or something. You’re already miles ahead of the other heat partners I’ve had.” _You take care of me just by being here_ , he doesn’t say.

“He _what?_ ” Yuuri says, outraged, pushing himself up on his elbow. “Are you serious? He didn’t— _how—_ ”

Viktor smiles, placing a hand on Yuuri’s chest. “It’s alright, darling, I survived,” he says. He doesn’t say the part about how his post-heat hormone shift was even worse than usual that time.

Yuuri covers Viktor’s hand with his own, pressing it against his heart. “Yes, but— that’s so— how could he take advantage of you like that? I can’t— I’m so _angry_ —”

“He’s long gone,” Viktor assures him, snuggling closer. He can’t help enjoying it, a little bit, Yuuri’s righteous anger on his behalf.

“I know,” Yuuri says, sighing out a breath. “Good. You know that I would never do something like that to you, right?”

“I know,” Viktor says happily.

Yuuri cradles Viktor’s head against his chest, covering him in waves of scent that cry _I’m going to protect you_ and _you’re safe here_.

“Well, your nest is perfect and I love it and I’m never leaving,” he says fiercely.

Viktor shifts, throwing his arm over Yuuri’s side. “I hope you don’t,” he murmurs into Yuuri’s chest. Then he pulls back, narrowing his eyes. “Did you say you did research?”

Yuuri covers his face with his hands and groans. “I was nervous,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.

Viktor laughs, delighted. “Yuuri, that’s adorable,” he says. He very much does _not_ say that he’s read a few Cosmo articles with titles like _How to Satisfy an Alpha in 10 Easy Steps_ , or how he watched alpha/omega porn and then tried to copy the precise moves of the omega on his rumpled Egyptian cotton bedsheets. Or how his favorite books are steamy romance novels starring irresistible omegas who seduce alphas right and left. He _definitely_ doesn’t say the part where he reread parts of these novels recently and jerked off, thinking of Yuuri.

He pulls Yuuri’s hands away from his face and kisses his nose. “Don’t be nervous because of me,” he says. “I already think you’re perfect.”

Yuuri blushes and leans in for a proper kiss. “You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, and Viktor hums, happy, kissing him back. He wants to be the best omega _ever_ for Yuuri.

 

—

 

“When do you think your heat is going to hit?” Yuuri asks. He’s sitting on the counter, watching Viktor as he pads around the kitchen, putting water and coconut water and light snacks into a basket. He touches Yuuri’s hand or his knee every time he passes, humming a little, and Yuuri smiles, a small thrill running through him at each soft touch.

The research that he’d done said that food and water is actually part of a nest, so he’s not surprised to see how much care and detail Viktor is putting into his preparations. His nest is gorgeous, a lovely mess of soft blankets and sheets, cradled by walls of pillows. Perfect for cuddling. And… for other things.

Yuuri had always been vaguely aware that nests were important for omegas, but the articles he’s recently read impressed on him just _how_ important they are, and especially how important it is for an omega’s heat partner to nest with them during their pre-heat. Time spent together helps ground most omegas, he’d learned, and it’s soothing and comforting for them to have their partner’s scent ingrained into their nest. Additionally, having their partner nearby helps with heat preparations tremendously, because it means that their body doesn’t have to do the extra work of attempting to attract a partner. Yuuri would never dream of doing differently anyway, even if he wasn’t going into rut. Which was why he’d been so outraged to hear that Viktor’s ex hadn’t even cared enough for that.

And who could possibly pass up the chance to spend time with Viktor like this? Viktor, who looks at Yuuri with such a sweet, tender look in his eyes, who smells like warmth and safety, who purrs for Yuuri and wants to kiss him and be held. Yuuri wouldn’t trade this for the world.

(“Am I being too clingy?” Viktor had asked fretfully, after realizing that he’d followed Yuuri into the bathroom when Yuuri went to shower earlier. “Yuuri, you can tell me. I’ll back off.”)

(“No,” Yuuri said, stepping closer and putting his hands on Viktor’s hips. “Cling to me more.”)

(They’d ended up showering together, rinsing each other off under the hot spray. Even though they hadn’t done anything besides bathe each other, it still felt so impossibly intimate that Yuuri had thought his heart might burst.)

“Tomorrow, it feels like,” Viktor says, answering his question. “Usually my pre-heat lasts for three days, but I can feel my heat coming on pretty strong. Seems like it was only two days this time.”

Probably because he was triggered early, Yuuri thinks. Viktor’s body must have rushed to catch up to Yuuri’s cycle. He still feels bad about that, even though he also feels _excited_ about spending his rut with Viktor. He’s never felt like this before.

“I think my rut is going to start tomorrow, too,” Yuuri says. He can feel it building under his skin, a rushing pulse. It’s faint right now, but in a few more hours it won’t be.

Viktor looks up and smiles at him. “We’re in sync, then.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri agrees, smiling back.

“My heat usually starts in the morning,” Viktor adds, turning back to the basket he’s carefully putting together, arranging the food and the drinks. “It wakes me up, most of the time.”

Yuuri can’t help the heat that rolls through him at that, the thought of Viktor waking up full of lust and need. The thought of himself, being woken up by a needy Viktor.

“Oh,” he says faintly, and Viktor grins at him wickedly, as though he knows exactly what Yuuri is thinking. Then he looks down at the basket under his hands, and his smile turns soft, and Yuuri feels his heart twist in his chest.

“Come see, Yuuri,” Viktor says, turning the basket towards him, and Yuuri hops down off the counter and goes over to him, letting Viktor wrap himself around Yuuri from behind, his arms around Yuuri’s waist, his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder as he carefully points out the sustenance he’s put together for them.

And Yuuri suddenly, quietly realizes that he is in love. He loves Viktor’s straight eyebrows and pointy nose that always seems to be blushing and he loves his lips and his pretty eyes and his silver hair.

He loves this man, thoroughly and unavoidably. He doesn’t entirely know what to do with this revelation, so he just lets himself be held, breathing in Viktor’s tender scent, listening to his excited voice.

“It’s perfect, Vitya,” Yuuri says, turning his head to smile at him, and he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing like a love realization during the softest pre-heat in history ♥︎
> 
> We’re halfway through! And where is the smut, you ask? It’s in the next chapter. And in the two chapters after that. Don’t worry, I got you. 
> 
> Playlist for this fic [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on youtube because spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!


	6. i'm in love with your body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the heat begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to fucktown, population: 2
> 
> this chapter is a bit longer than usual :) a treat for you

Viktor wakes up unsure what time it is, but the room isn’t dark — light is seeping in through the curtains, so it must be some time after sunrise. He feels too hot and restless, like he can’t stay still inside his skin, and there’s a thick, buzzing haze of _need_ clouding everything.

 _Yuuri_ , he thinks, and his omega repeats it, _Yuuri Yuuri,_ and Viktor turns, drawn irresistibly towards him where he’s still asleep on his stomach, his arm thrown over Viktor’s waist and his face smushed into the pillow.

“Yuuri,” Viktor mewls, pushing his fingers into Yuuri’s soft hair and digging his chin into his shoulder, breathing in his sleepy scent, and he smells so _good_ , God, Viktor can’t get enough. “Yuuri,” again, “Yuuri, Yuuri, wake up,” and he rolls his hips against him, impatient and jittery and _hot_ , he’s so hot, why is he wearing clothes? He pulls his shirt off, twisting out of the fabric, but he can’t be bothered with the pajama pants because he wants Yuuri so _badly_ , and he mewls his name into his ear and moves against him until Yuuri blinks awake and lifts his head, squinting at him.

“...Vitya? What’s the matter? What—” he stops, his expression changing as Viktor scents him, sending a wave of his sweet heat scent wafting over Yuuri.

“Oh,” Yuuri breathes, and then Viktor’s on his back and Yuuri is mouthing hotly at his neck, sucking deliciously.

Viktor keens, scrabbling at his back, perfectly pleased for about five seconds before the need crashes back down in a head-spinning rush, and he puts his hand on Yuuri’s ass, pushing his hips up to meet him, feeling with the movement how slick he already is and how hard they both are. Yuuri’s rut must be affecting him too — Viktor can smell it in his scent, and he’s so _pleased_ that Yuuri wants him so badly despite having woken up about one minute ago.

“Ah, Vitya, are you sure?” Yuuri asks, panting against him, hot, hurried breaths. “We haven’t even brushed our teeth—”

The concept of getting up out of his nest and standing at a sink to brush his teeth is so foreign to Viktor right now that he grabs Yuuri and pulls him down into a deep kiss, to prove how much he doesn’t care about that. He also takes the opportunity to wrap his legs around Yuuri’s hips, holding them close together and squeezing, and he’s immensely gratified when Yuuri groans and starts rutting against him, quick, tight thrusts of his hips.

Yuuri’s wearing the t-shirt and boxer briefs that he sleeps in, and Viktor still has his pajama pants on. He doesn’t like that because he’s still so _hot_ and he wants the clothes off, he wants to feel Yuuri’s skin— but he really _does_ like the way that Yuuri is moving against him and he really _really_ likes the way that Yuuri pins one of his hands to the bed and pushes his head to the side with the other, licking over his scent gland before latching onto his neck and sucking a huge mark just under his jaw.

“Ah,” Viktor moans. “Yuuri, Yuuripleaseyes,” and Yuuri actually growls against his neck, possessive, marking his territory, which sends such a spike of heat through Viktor’s belly that he arches up against him, one arm and both legs wrapped around him, trembling.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says against his skin, hips moving, voice low and intense, “fuck, you smell amazing,” and then Yuuri’s scent washes over Viktor’s senses, sharp and spicy with rut, and Viktor only wants to smell like that forever.

He leans up to kiss him, brow furrowed with how strongly he feels, clutching at the nape of Yuuri’s neck as Yuuri puts his hand on his face and thumbs over the corner of Viktors’ lips.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes against his lips, holding onto him like he’s the only thing worth having in the whole world.

“God,” Yuuri says, and hoists himself up so that he can tug his underwear down around his thighs, and pulls down Viktor’s pajama pants enough so that he can take both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them together. Viktor gasps and throws his head back against the pillow, curling both of his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders.

 _Close, keep him close,_ Viktor's omega whispers.

Yuuri leans his forehead against Viktor's neck, breathing hard and heated against him.

“You're so hot, Vitya,” he says, and Viktor _does_ feel hot, hot and strained and _wanting_ , but Yuuri makes it better, Yuuri’s breath against his neck and Yuuri's body close against him and Yuuri's hand around his cock.

Viktor rocks into his hand, his cock sliding against Yuuri’s, hard and quick, really just focused on getting off, aching for release and the brief relief it will bring. Yuuri seems to have a similar train of thought, because he's not moving with his usual care and finesse, although Viktor barely notices. The small part of him that does notice really likes it — Yuuri's intensity and demand only turns him on more, heat surging in his belly as their mingling scents cover both of them.

It's not long after when first Viktor and then Yuuri comes in the space between them, messy on Viktor's stomach, and Viktor lets his gasping breaths even out against Yuuri's shoulder.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes, thumbing over Viktor’s cheekbone. “Better?”

Viktor nods, because it is a little, he doesn't feel so desperate he's ready to crawl out of his skin anymore.

“You?” he asks, and Yuuri nods as well.

“It's still early,” he says. “The full force of it hasn't hit me yet.”

Viktor hides his face in Yuuri’s shoulder again, realizing that he’s right. His own erection has gone down a bit, although he's still kind of hard. It will be worse later in the day, he knows from experience, when he’ll come again and again and still feel just as urgent and needy.

Not worse, he corrects himself, not with Yuuri here. Just more intense. That's okay. And the thought of the full strength of Yuuri’s rut hitting later has him almost ready to go again, right now.

He leans in to kiss Yuuri’s neck and Yuuri’s hand soothes the back of his head.

“Do you want to go to the bathroom?” Yuuri asks.

Viktor still doesn’t want to leave his nest, but he wants to leave Yuuri even less. And it would be nice to brush his teeth.

“If you take me,” he says, clinging again to him.  

“Of course,” Yuuri says. He pulls his shirt off and uses it to clean up Viktor’s stomach, and then balls it up and tosses it out of the nest. He slides his own underwear back up, and then plucks at Viktor's pajama pants. “On or off?”

“Off, please,” Viktor says, almost a groan. “I'm so hot, Yuuri.”

Yuuri helps pull Viktor's pajama pants all the way off, so that he's completely naked, and Viktor sighs a little in relief, clutching at Yuuri's hand. His omega purrs happily, luxuriating. _Our alpha, taking care of us, be good for him_.

Yuuri squeezes back, entwining their fingers, and then helps Viktor up off the bed and into the bathroom.

It was a good idea, Viktor realizes, because he does feel better after he uses the toilet and brushes his teeth. He’s so grateful for Yuuri. Yuuri is so smart. He’s also grateful that Yuuri doesn’t seem to mind that Viktor is naked and mostly hard, even though Yuuri still has his boxer briefs on like a respectable boyfriend. He also either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge the truly tremendous amount of slick that Viktor is producing. It's dripping down his thighs at this point, and he can feel it sliding smoothly with every step as he crosses the small bathroom to dry his hands on the hand towel.

He can't bring himself to be embarrassed; in fact, he kind of _wants_ Yuuri to say something at this point, because the need is building, itching inside of him again, but he’s still retaining enough of his dignity to avoid bending over and commenting on it himself, like his omega is begging him to do.

He _does_ very purposefully walk in front of Yuuri as he crosses back to the sinks, leaning on the counter and sticking his ass out a little, pretending to examine his fingernails.

“Wow,” Yuuri says, sounding a little awed, and Viktor thinks, _success_. “Vitya, you're so _wet_.”

Coming from someone else, in a different tone of voice, Viktor would be offended, but as it is he preens and pushes his ass out a little more.

“I don't always get this wet, even during my heats,” he says, looking over his shoulder at Yuuri. Which is not a lie — he does always get very slick, but this much is new. “Must be the company.”

Just like that, Yuuri is behind him, his hands on Viktor's waist, nibbling his ear. “Oh yeah?” He whispers, a hand traveling lower to squeeze Viktor's hip.

“Yeah,” Viktor breathes. “You really turn me on, Yuuri.”

Yuuri makes a cut off noise against Viktor's shoulder. “Vitya, is it alright… can I— between your thighs?”

Viktor hears a choir of angels singing. “Yes,” he says, “yes, please,” and then Yuuri’s pushing him down, his cheek against the cool countertop, and a thrill runs through Viktor at being manhandled like that, wow.

“Fuck,” Yuuri mumbles, hopping a little as he pulls off his underwear as quickly as he can. “Are you sure?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Viktor insists, and then Yuuri’s pushing his cock in between Viktor’s slick thighs, his body curling over Viktor’s back, gasping into his ear.

“Oh, my God,” Yuuri says, dragging his head back to rest his forehead against Viktor’s shoulder. “How do you feel so good?”

He’s speaking quietly, like he’s talking to himself, and a smile spreads across Viktor’s face. _He’s_ the one making Yuuri feel good.

His arms are folded at slightly awkward angles, but he doesn’t try to move, he likes the feeling of being trapped under Yuuri and _used_ , he’s achingly hard again just thinking about it. Yuuri straightens up a little, his hands sliding down to Viktor’s hips as he thrusts between Viktor’s legs, quick and harsh, his cock sliding easily through the mess of slick. Viktor twists his head to look over his shoulder to catch Yuuri’s flushed, focused face, his panting breaths filling the room, and then gasps a little as Yuuri’s cock brushes against his balls.

Yuuri moving against him like this, this almost-fucking, it only makes Viktor wonder more what it would be like to have Yuuri inside of him, these same movements. He clutches at the edge of the countertop at the thought, trying to hold on to something solid. It would be very good, he thinks, and then he cries out a little as Yuuri reaches around him and wraps a hand around Viktor’s cock, stroking him in time with the movement of his hips.

HIs cheek is squished against the countertop, a bit wet now — is that from his own drool? — and he wants to spread his legs for Yuuri, but he keeps them tight together so that Yuuri can fuck between them, Yuuri's hand on Viktor’s cock far firmer and steadier than Viktor feels. He’s about to shake apart into tiny pieces.

“Ah, ah, Yuuri, I, I’m not going to last long,” he tries to warn, and this is an effect of his heat, he’ll come quickly but go again and again. Yuuri just leans over him to lick the shell of his ear.

“Good,” he whispers. “We have all day.”

“Yes,” Viktor gasps, and then again, “ _yes,_ ” as Yuuri lowers his mouth to his neck, sucking and nipping a bruise into the skin there, and heat courses through Viktor at the knowledge of being marked. Yuuri even _smells_ possessive, his scent whispering _you’re mine_ , and Viktor wants nothing more than to be owned right now, for Yuuri to need him more than anything else, to be able to possess Yuuri in return.

He screws his eyes shut as he comes, crying out against the countertop as he splatters onto the floor, and then he goes limp, making Yuuri hold him up as he increases his pace, his hands hooked under Viktor's hips as Viktor lets his torso and head drape loose over the counter. Yuuri pants, snapping his hips against the backs of Viktor’s thighs until he’s curled over Viktor’s back again, and Viktor can feel his breath hot against his tingling skin as he breathes Viktor’s name with vocalized gasps, and then he’s coming too, driving himself deep and spilling down Viktor’s legs.

“Yuu- _riii_ ,” Viktor hums, purring for him, hoping that Yuuri can feel the vibrations reverberating through his own body.

Yuuri softly kisses the back of his neck. “We made a mess,” he whispers, sounding pleased.

Viktor hums in agreement. It’s is true, but what’s equally true is that Viktor doesn’t want to spend any time cleaning anything up, not when he could be doing very fun things with Yuuri instead. Also, he’s itching to get back to his nest, starting to feel uneasy at being away from it for so long.

“Clean up later,” he says, turning his head to catch Yuuri’s lips.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, kissing him several times. “I’m going to clean _you_ up, though. No good getting your pretty nest dirty so quickly.”

Viktor’s legs are starting to feel a bit sticky, so he stays still and doesn’t complain when Yuuri wets a washcloth with warm water and wipes him down, cleaning the slick from his thighs as well and gently drying him with a towel afterwards. Yuuri also uses the washcloth to clean up Viktor’s come from the floor, which is really thoughtful of him, Viktor thinks.

He also wants to get Yuuri back to his nest as soon as possible, so as soon as Yuuri’s done Viktor takes the washcloth out of his hand and tosses it into the corner.

“Clean up later,” he mumbles, kissing him lightly, and grabs Yuuri’s hand, and pulling him into the bedroom. Yuuri grins and kisses him back, chasing his lips as Viktor climbs back into his nest. Yuuri eagerly follows him, and Viktor immediately feels better, taking Yuuri’s face in his hands and kissing him again, licking into his mouth when Yuuri parts his lips, inviting him deeper. Viktor presses himself closer, rolling his body against Yuuri, and oh, he can feel that Yuuri’s hard again, or still hard, maybe, and he reaches down to feel Yuuri’s cock, thick and gorgeous. Yuuri gasps into his mouth when Viktor touches him, and Viktor’s _thirsting_ for it, wants it inside of him. He can feel himself getting wetter at just the thought. He’s been good. He’s waited long enough.

He’d made sure to clean himself before going to sleep last night, and the slick helps with that too, so he doesn’t feel concerned at all as he wiggles in Yuuri’s lap and says, “Will you fuck me, sweetheart?”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, shutting his eyes as Viktor continues to lightly stroke him. His hands are tight on Viktor’s waist, but that’s not _enough_ , Viktor needs to show him how much he wants him. He detaches Yuuri’s hands and lies back, spreading his legs, looking up at Yuuri with his most alluring gaze.

Yuuri’s hands go back to Viktor’s skin immediately, smoothing over his hips and ass, and Viktor thinks _yes_ , except Yuuri still isn’t _doing_ anything but staring at him, and Viktor’s seduction game is fun but the need is quickly building up under his skin and he’s going to resort to begging in a minute.

“Vitya, are you sure?” Yuuri asks, even though he’s looking at Viktor like he wants to devour him, his eyes blown wide with desire. “I know it’s a stereotype or whatever for omegas, but you don’t have to bottom. I want you to be comfortable—”

Viktor is desperate. Viktor pushes his ass into Yuuri’s hands and _whines_. “I don’t care about stereotypes, Yuuri, I want you to fuck me,” he says, his face twisted up with frustration and _want_.

“Okay,” Yuuri breathes, and pulls Viktor’s hips into his lap.

“I’m so wet for you,” Viktor whispers, “Yuuri, _please_ ,” and Yuuri runs his fingers up the inside of Viktor’s thigh, sucking in a breath when he feels that Viktor is not lying even a little bit. He teases over Viktor’s perineum and circles his hole, making Viktor gasp, before coating a finger in the copious slick and pressing in gently.

“Mmm, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor says, stretching his arms back above his head and sighing. One finger has never felt so good. He doesn’t feel full, not close to it, but there’s something about Yuuri, Yuuri touching him, that makes the buzzing under his skin quiet down, turn into more of a heated hum, needy and expectant but not intolerable.

Yuuri moves his finger in and out, going slowly, pushing a little deeper each time, his other hand steady on Viktor’s hip. He’s being so cautious, even with his cock standing up red and fat, and Viktor wants it so badly, wants to tell Yuuri he can hurry up, he’s not going to break. But Yuuri’s eyes are so focused and intent on him, his lip caught slightly between his teeth as he sinks his whole finger in, and Viktor just basks under his gaze, feeling whole and seen and adored.

Yuuri pulls his finger out and warns Viktor before he pushes back in with two, and Viktor draws in a breath, arching his back a little. This isn’t the first time that Yuuri has fingered him — the first time was two weeks ago, when Yuuri accepted the lube that Viktor offered him and stretched him open with two fingers, petting over his prostate while sucking his cock at the same time. Viktor had lasted an embarrassingly short time before coming down Yuuri’s throat, and even thinking about it now is enough to make his cock jerk and leak against his belly.

But with the way that Yuuri is being so careful, and with the promise of his cock afterwards, it _feels_ like the first time, and Viktor tries to let himself get swept away in Yuuri’s slow exploratory rhythm.

That works great until Yuuri finds his prostate, and Viktor shouts out at the sudden explosion of sensation.

“Ah,” Viktor gasps, as Yuuri’s mouth twitches into a small smile and he crooks his fingers to rub over that spot again and again, sending pleasure crashing through Viktor’s body. Viktor writhes, unsure whether he wants more or less, because it’s _good_ , it’s really good, but it’s so much so fast and he can hear himself panting, harsh, broken breaths. “Ah, ah, _Yu—_ , _ah_ ,” he can’t even get out Yuuri’s full name. He’s arching his back, throwing his head against the sheets and swallowing hard, squirming his hips and pushing himself further onto Yuuri’s fingers, because he wants more, he’s decided, definitely more. Yuuri sets his blood on fire.

Yuuri slides his other hand up under the curve of Viktor’s back, leaning forward over him, supporting him. His eyes are shining like he wants to say something, but he just huffs out a breath and smiles, gliding his fingers in a pattern that’s slow but insistent and drives Viktor crazy.

He doesn’t even realize how much noise he’s making until he sucks in a rough breath and the moans are cut off. Oh. He should feel something — embarrassment? But he can’t feel embarrassed when Yuuri’s looking at him like _that_ , all fiery and intense, and his scent is shouting with arousal.

Heat and lust and desire, and Viktor just want to _drown_ in him —

“Oh,” Viktor chokes out, “you’re really good at this.”

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, doing _something_ with his fingers that makes Viktor throw his head back and keen, and then he’s coming all over himself, untouched, arching back as though he could escape from the sensation and lean further into it at the same time.

“Good,” Yuuri says, purring softly, his voice low and heated and laden with praise. Viktor is crushed with disappointment for a moment, because he didn’t even get Yuuri’s cock, but then he realizes that he’s still hard and straining despite the come painting his belly, and Yuuri’s fingers are still rubbing delicate circles inside of him. Viktor stretches and purrs contentedly, blinking lazily up at Yuuri as he sends out a fresh wave of scent in his direction.

“Loosening me up?” Viktor asks saucily, winking flirtily. As if Yuuri needed to be seduced further. As if Viktor already didn’t already have him in his nest, with his fingers in his ass. He’s being literal, though — he _does_ feel loose, now, a little boneless and melty against the mattress.

Yuuri doesn’t answer, just smirks at him a little as he continues to pet over Viktor’s prostate. Normally, Viktor would be far too oversensitive after coming to enjoy that, but his heat increases his stamina to the extent that it still feels _good_ , if a little more tender than before.

“I promise I’m ready, Yuuri,” Viktor says, wiggling his hips a little in Yuuri’s lap, enjoying the feeling of Yuuri’s fingers.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks, shifting to pull his fingers out, and Viktor thinks _yes_ , but then Yuuri’s pushing back in with three and Viktor’s mouth falls open on its own. Yuuri smiles at him, pleased, and moves his other hand to rub his wrist over the scent glands at the crease of Viktor’s thigh.

Viktor makes some kind of noise of longing and need, spreading his legs further to give Yuuri more access. He wants Yuuri’s scent _everywhere_ , but especially on his own glands, mixed with his own scent. It soothes the itch humming in his thighs, and Viktor feels pleased and pleasured and fulfilled in a way he didn’t know was possible during a heat. Right now, laid out in Yuuri’s lap, with three of Yuuri’s fingers stretching him open and Yuuri scenting him intimately at the same time, Viktor feels possessed in a way that he didn’t even know he was craving; his omega is thrumming with satisfied bliss, elated vibrations curling under his skin.

Viktor tries to convey some of this to Yuuri through his gaze, heavy and filled with desire, and he purrs loudly for him, strong and passionate. He can feel the blood hot in his cheeks and his chest, and Yuuri blushes beautifully in return, moving his hand from Viktor’s scent glands to brush his fingertips across Viktor’s chest.

“So pretty,” he murmurs, and Viktor feels taken apart.

Yuuri presses more insistently at his prostate, giving an extra stretch now as he crooks his fingers again, petting over that one spot and sending pleasure shooting hot through Viktor’s belly. He feels so exposed, like this, on his back with Yuuri sitting over him, but it’s not bad; he _wants_ Yuuri to see how much he gets off on him.

“You’re going to make me come again,” Viktor rasps out, biting down on another moan.

“I’m going to make you come a lot of times,” Yuuri says, and rational thought is slipping away from Viktor as Yuuri’s fingers move, relentless, milking him. He’s scenting him again at the same time, rubbing his wrist deeply across the scent glands in Viktor’s groin, and Viktor’s cock twitches at how close Yuuri’s hand is, leaking a little more into the wet mess on Viktor’s stomach, but he has a hard time even deciding if he wants Yuuri to touch him, given how Yuuri’s hands are currently occupied.

“God, Yuuri, please,” Viktor begs, “oh my God, don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri assures him, his calm voice at odds with his flushed cheeks and pink, bitten lips, and then Viktor can’t see him anymore and oh, that’s because his eyes are closed, his mouth open and gasping as Yuuri brings him to the edge, wringing a second and then a third orgasm out of him.

“Ahhh,” Viktor manages weakly, blinking blearily up at Yuuri as he finds his head again. Yuuri is leaning over him, stroking tenderly over Viktor’s neck and chest.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, sing song. “Are you ready?”

It’s all Viktor can do to drag his eyes up to meet his hot, intense gaze. He nods a little, huffing a short breath through his nose, jaw slack and tears in his eyes as he watches Yuuri’s face. He’s been ready for what feels like _hours_. But he can hardly complain, lying here in Yuuri’s lap, boneless and already fucked out against the mattress.

Yuuri hums a little in response, and Viktor lets his eyes slip shut as Yuuri moves slightly, reaching for something, and then shivering as he hears the tear of a condom wrapper. He wants to see, and he opens his eyes in time to see Yuuri rolling the condom onto his cock.

“Oh God,” Viktor groans weakly, _wanting_ so badly.

Yuuri gathers up some of the excess slick wet on Viktor’s thighs and drags his hand over his cock, pumping himself a couple of times, his eyelashes fluttering a little and his lips parting.

“Okay, I’m,” he says, leaning over him, his voice thrumming with something electric, and then — _oh_ — Viktor can feel the hot head of his cock pressing up against his hole, and they both gasp as Yuuri eases inside. Viktor’s prepared for the stretch after the _very thorough_ prep that Yuuri did, but still it’s — wow, he can _feel_ how thick he is, pressing against his walls, and Yuuri’s not even all the way in yet.

“Ahh _haa_ ,” Viktor says, which is not what he’d been trying to say, but saying anything doesn’t seem very important anyway, not when Yuuri is slowly rocking into him like this. Yuuri has a bright flush high in his cheeks and his lips are parted, gasping a little as he carefully watches Viktor, who lets his eyes flutter shut as Yuuri finally sinks all the way in.

“G- _God_ ,” Viktor manages, his hand up to clutch at the pillow his head is resting on.

“Good?” Yuuri asks, running his thumb over Viktor’s lips.

“Good, yes, Yuuri, it’s good,” Viktor says, blinking up at him. He’d already been hazy with pleasure and now it’s like he exists only to feel.

Yuuri breathes out and starts to move, slowly at first, as though he’s gauging Viktor’s reaction. Viktor himself isn’t sure what his reaction is. Normally after coming three times, he’d be an incoherent, oversensitive mess, but thanks to his heat, his erection hasn’t even flagged, and he’s a bit oversensitive, yes, but not unbearably so. And Yuuri’s cock, which he adores, thick inside of him at last, is perfectly riding that line between just enough and too much, and Viktor can barely even think.

He’s been dreaming about this for _so long_ , and it seems like one of those rare occasions where the real thing is even better than his very vivid imagination. Yuuri is — a gift, a dream come true, hot and _perfect_ as he thrusts a little harder, sending a jolt through Viktor’s body.

“Yuuri, I—” he breaks off, gasping, because he wants to tell Yuuri how _good_ he is, but Yuuri’s cock is brushing against his prostate and the words scatter behind his eyes.

“Yes?” Yuuri asks, his fingers brushing across Viktor’s cheek, and Viktor leans into the touch, turning his head to mouth sloppily at Yuuri’s fingers.

“Yuuu-rii,” he murmurs, looking up at Yuuri through fluttering eyelids, and then Yuuri’s leaning down to kiss him, his mouth hot and open and fervent.

Viktor clings to him, greedy, unwilling to let go, his hand on Yuuri’s neck as Yuuri licks into his mouth and sucks on his tongue. His other hand slinks down Yuuri’s back to clutch at his ass, pulling him closer between his legs. In this moment, Viktor is perfectly satisfied; with Yuuri kissing him, making love to him, with all of Yuuri’s attention on him, and he can still feel Yuuri’s scent tingling pleasantly on his scent glands. Viktor’s omega is thrumming with electric contentment, and Viktor is purring too, deep vibrations that Yuuri must be able to feel in his own body.

“Oh,” Viktor gasps, when Yuuri shifts a little and finds a particularly good angle. “Yes, Yuuri, right _there_ , do that again—”

Yuuri meets his eyes, all heat and heavy-lidded desire, and keeps moving, making pleasure spark and bloom in Viktor’s abdomen. He’s panting a little, soft, half-vocalized noises falling out of him, and Viktor wants to keep him forever like this, wants to please him in a hundred different ways just to see that look on his face.

But — oh God, Yuuri’s _too_ good, Viktor’s not going to _last_ , and he tosses his head to the side, clutching at Yuuri’s shoulder as his breath hitches, small moans escaping from him, trying to stave off the undeniable mounting wave that threatens to overtake him.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, his hand hot against Viktor’s cheek, turning Viktor’s head back towards him. “Look at me.”

“I am, _ah_ , I am looking at you, my Yuuri,” Viktor says helplessly, as Yuuri snaps his hips.

“Don’t take your eyes off me,” Yuuri says, and Viktor _melts_ underneath him, because how could he ever look away?

“I won’t,” Viktor says, and he means it with his whole soul. He _wants_ , oh, he wants so much to be good for Yuuri, to do what Yuuri says. So he struggles to keep his eyes open, to keep them on Yuuri, and Yuuri looks at him with such tender affection that Viktor’s heart cracks open.

He pulls Yuuri down to kiss him again, although really it’s more gasping against each other’s mouths than a real kiss. Yuuri leans their foreheads together, rocking into him, and a small part of Viktor’s brain asks, _knot?_ But most of him is too gone and loose with pleasure to worry about that, so he just curls his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders instead, and that’s how he comes half a minute later, holding Yuuri’s body to him as he shudders through his release, his face screwed up and pushed into Yuuri’s neck, breathing in the scent of him.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes, his hand cradling the back of Viktor’s head, his voice filled with wonder and lust. He stills, with a clear effort, and Viktor’s omega shouts _no_ , he wants Yuuri to come too, he wants to be the reason why Yuuri comes.

“Keep going,” Viktor murmurs into Yuuri’s skin, loose-limbed, his eyes softly shut against Yuuri’s neck.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri asks, his breath hitching, but he’s already moving again, pushing in gently, clearly trying to hold back. Viktor nods against him, savoring the feeling of Yuuri inside of him, filling him, every nerve extra sensitive and filled with the sensation of _Yuuri, Yuuri, yes,_ this _is what it feels like_.

“Ah,” Yuuri breathes, “okay, Vitya, yes,” and he’s going harder now, and Viktor just clings to him, scenting him, breathing him in. It’s a little — a lot — overwhelming, but he _loves_ it too, loves _Yuuri_ , and _oh_ —

He loves him—

 _Yes_ , Viktor comes back with his whole being, like a floodgate has been opened, _yes, yes, I love him_ , _I_ love _him_.

Yuuri’s rhythm starts to break down, his hips jerking, and Viktor holds him tight as he comes with a ragged moan, driving in deep and _grinding_ , and again Viktor thinks of his knot, what it would be like to have Yuuri locked inside of him like that, and he likes the idea _a_ _lot_ but also his body is exhausted right now and he’s not sure he can take anymore without a break first.

“Yuuri,” he says instead, stroking over Yuuri’s back and sides, so _delighted_ that he got to feel Yuuri coming inside of him, even with the condom. Part of him regrets the necessity of using it, wants Yuuri’s come painting his insides, even though the larger, more rational part of himself knows how irresponsible that would be.

Yuuri flops down on top of him, and for a moment Viktor is unpleasantly reminded of his own come on his stomach, before Yuuri’s body heat warms it up and makes him forget again. Yuuri nuzzles against his neck and kisses up to his ear, nibbling a bit and purring a little sheepishly.

“Was that okay?” Yuuri asks softly, pressing gentle kisses down the shell of Viktor’s ear. His breath gives Viktor chills.

“ _Okay?_ ” Viktor asks, shocked that Yuuri could think so little of himself. “It was perfect, Yuuri. Amazing.” He grins at him lazily, squeezing his waist, and Yuuri blushes and smiles back, purring harder.

“I only want the best for you,” Yuuri whispers, so quiet that Viktor would think he’d misheard him if they hadn’t been the only two people in an otherwise silent room. He wants to ask Yuuri to repeat himself, but then Yuuri shifts to pull out (he’s still very hard, Viktor can’t help noticing) and leans away to get something to clean them both up.

Viktor’s sort of all floppy and useless, and lets Yuuri do all the work, gently wiping off Viktor’s  stomach before tending to himself. Viktor’s cock has softened a bit, and he feels _satisfied_ , which is rare for him during a heat. He’s used to fucking himself to exhaustion and falling asleep just as frustrated and aching as he was when he woke up.

Yuuri takes off the condom and ties it, leaning over the edge of the nest to drop it in the wastebin by the side of the bed. Then he rolls back and slots himself up against Viktor’s side, throwing his leg across Viktor’s thighs and resting his head on his shoulder. His dick is poking Viktor in the hip and Viktor wants to tell him — _something_ — but it’s hard to remember when Yuuri starts playing delicately with his nipple, his breath sighing sweetly across Viktor’s scent gland.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, his hand burying itself in Yuuri’s soft hair and carding through the dark strands. Yuuri rolls his hips against him, slowly, and _aha_ , Viktor remembers what he wanted to say.

“You can rub off against me, if you want,” he says.

Yuuri lifts his head, surprised, and then apparently sees that Viktor is serious, because his eyes go wide and then half-lidded and he moves so that he’s on top of Viktor, straddling his stomach.

“I really want to,” he murmurs, rolling his hips again. Viktor settles his hands on Yuuri’s hips encouragingly, and then Yuuri’s rutting low and dirty against his stomach, sticking his nose into Viktor’s scent gland.

“Good,” Viktor purrs, drawing out the word as Yuuri trails his lips up Viktor’s neck and starts sucking. He gasps a little under the sweet ache of Yuuri’s mouth, loving the feeling of knowing that Yuuri is marking him, _claiming_ him.

“I’ve thought about this,” Yuuri admits, when he pulls away to examine the mark he made. “Rubbing off on you, I mean — you’re so gorgeous, fuck,” he breaks off, dropping his head to kiss over Viktor’s collarbone. “It feels like,” he murmurs, sucking bruises into Viktor’s shoulder, “like I can have,” he kisses over those marks as well, “all of you.”

Viktor feels a rush of heat thrill through him, and he squeezes Yuuri’s hips, wishing he had eight more hands so he could touch him all over.

“You can have all of me,” he says, and Yuuri groans, snapping his hips, dragging his cock quick and frantic across Viktor’s stomach.

“You’re so — _muscular_ ,” Yuuri says, “sculpted and beautiful, I don’t even understand—” he cuts himself off, eyes closing on a moan, and kisses Viktor instead, hard and biting. Viktor opens for him easily, feeling so pliant and usable underneath Yuuri, and Yuuri rests his hands on Viktor’s shoulders, pressing him down as he leans into him. Viktor quickly learns that he _loves_ being pressed into the mattress by Yuuri — he feels _safe_ , something light and happy fluttering inside of him, because nothing bad can happen to him here, in his nest with Yuuri on top of him, caging him in his arms, holding him securely and not letting him go.

It doesn’t feel restricting, like Viktor has sometimes experienced in the past; it just feels comforting and gratifying, knowing that Yuuri enjoys this so much too. Viktor wants to do _everything_ for him.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says again, rough and heated, and Viktor just wants to hear him say his name a hundred, a thousand more times, wants to live in this moment forever, sated and letting Yuuri use him to his heart’s content.

“ _Yuu_ -ri,” he purrs back, half a question, half a statement, as his hands slide up to Yuuri’s waist, tracing patterns over his back. Yuuri leans his forehead on the pillow next to Viktor’s head, breathing out ragged, gasping breaths, and Viktor turns towards him, cooing softly in his ear.

“I’d love to suck you off,” he says, and is very gratified when Yuuri’s breath catches in response. “But you did such a good job, tiring me out. I’ll have to do it later.”

“Oh God,” Yuuri says weakly, his hips stuttering against Viktor’s stomach.

“Is that a yes?” Viktor asks, gently stroking Yuuri’s side.

“Yes, _please_ ,” Yuuri says around a small moan.

“It’s a promise, then,” Viktor says. “I love having you in my mouth, my Yuuri. _Vkusno_.” He nips playfully at Yuuri’s earlobe. “Almost as good as having you in my ass.”

“Ah-a _hh?_ ” Yuuri stutters out, and then he’s coming across Viktor’s torso, his body curling in on himself, trembling under Viktor’s hands.

“It’s true,” Viktor says, touching Yuuri’s sweaty skin, shoulders, back, ass. “I love having you inside me.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri complains, slumping to the side this time to avoid his come. “You can’t just say things like that and expect me to be _okay_.”

Viktor blinks at him, frowning. “Should I not say those things, then?”

“No,” Yuuri says, leaning up to kiss him, “please keep saying everything. I love — I love it when you talk to me.”

“Okay,” Viktor says, his heart jumping at hearing those words come out of Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri grabs the same cloth from before and cleans Viktor up again, and then Viktor pulls him close, already feeling himself slip off into sleep and hazily wanting Yuuri to stay close while he rests. He wants to wake up and have Yuuri be the first thing he sees.

Yuuri grabs for the soft blanket and pulls it over them, pillowing his head on Viktor’s shoulder and resting his hand, loosely curled, on Viktor’s chest. Viktor falls asleep with the same fluttery lightness from before beating against the inside of his ribcage. His nose buried in Yuuri’s hair, Yuuri’s warmth against his skin, the way that Yuuri’s ribs rise and fall under Viktor’s hand with each soft breath — these are the most important things in the world, suddenly. These are the things it’s important to keep safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!!! Spice time ;) these soft boys are in Love
> 
> orgasm tally: 
> 
> viktor: 6
> 
> yuuri: 4
> 
> total: 10
> 
> ;)
> 
> Up until this point, I’ve had everything mostly written already, and just had to edit each chapter before posting, which is why I was able to update so often - now we’re entering territory that’s more unfinished, so I may not post quite as frequently! The next chapter is mostly complete, though, so I’ll hopefully have it up on Tuesday. (The chapter after that is ⅓ complete, and the final chapter is 0% complete, so you can see where I’m coming from.) Still! Trust me enough not to leave this fic unfinished :)) I love this world, and I don’t really want it to end, so if people want, I can potentially write more in this universe after this fic is done. 
> 
> My playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on Youtube because Spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!
> 
> Thank you again for all the comments & messages & support! It means so much to me. I would not be nearly as excited about this fic if you guys weren't so enthusiastic and eager! ♥︎


	7. how proud i am to be yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the heat continues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starring yuuri “fuck ‘n suck” katsuki and viktor “good for you” nikiforov
> 
> I think this is some of my favorite smut that I've ever written ^^ happy 4th of july lmao

Yuuri’s mouth is so dry that it wakes him up. He’s not sure how long he slept, but Viktor is still asleep next to him, his arm around Yuuri, heavy and loose. Yuuri doesn’t want to disturb him, so he tries to close his eyes again and slip back to sleep, ignoring the lack of moisture in his mouth.

It doesn’t work. He’s too thirsty to think about anything else, so he carefully eases out from under Viktor’s arm, hoping to disentangle himself without waking him. As soon as he sits up, though, Viktor’s arms are wrapping around his waist.

“Where are you going?” Viktor mumbles, curling around him, barely awake. “Trying to leave me while I sleep? Yuuuuri.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says quietly. His hand finds Viktor’s head, petting over his hair. “Of course not. I was just going to get some water.”

“I have water for you,” Viktor says, grinning sleepily, and then he flops over the side of the bed and pulls up the basket he’d prepared.

“Thanks,” Yuuri says, gratefully accepting the reusable bottle that Viktor hands him.

“Did you sleep well?” Viktor asks, taking a second bottle for himself.

“Yeah,” Yuuri says, after drinking. Surprisingly so, for a rut. He’s usually much more restless and fitful. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Viktor says. He sounds a little surprised. He stretches and smiles and lies down again, putting his head in Yuuri’s lap. “I feel good, Yuuri. What about you?”

“Me too,” Yuuri says, stroking Viktor’s hair, his heart pounding unfairly at the way that Viktor bares his throat at Yuuri’s touch. He’s a little surprised; everything he’d read beforehand said that it was often difficult to satisfy omegas during heat, but Viktor just seems content and happy. Yuuri _does_ feel good, sitting here with him, watching him, knowing that Viktor is pleased.

He can feel, too, that his rut is building up, stronger, more insistent — buzzing in his scent glands and down his spine. He drinks again and then puts his water bottle back in the basket, taking Viktor’s too when Viktor holds it out to him, and then leans over to put the basket back on the floor. The food remains untouched, for now. Yuuri knows from experience that he’ll be ravenous tomorrow, but currently his rut doesn’t require any sustenance.

Viktor burrows back in underneath the soft blanket, his back pressed up against the wall of pillows he built, and Yuuri kneels for a moment, looking down at him.

“Yuuri,” Viktor murmurs, reaching for him, and Yuuri lets Viktor pull him down and arrange the blanket over him as well.

“’M here,” Yuuri murmurs back, cuddling up to him, skin to skin. He runs his hand down Viktor’s side, appreciating his narrow waist and then, lower, the lovely swell of his ass.

Viktor grins at him as Yuuri palms his entire right buttcheek and pulls him closer, resettling him between his legs.

“You like touching my ass,” Viktor says, as though he’s commenting on the weather.

“It’s definitely one of your best features,” Yuuri says, stealing a kiss. “Good to hold.”

“Hmm,” Viktor hums as he kisses Yuuri back, little pecks that are about to deepen into more. “You know what else is good to hold?”

“Your hand?” Yuuri says, teasing, before sucking on Viktor’s bottom lip.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, when Yuuri lets him have his lip back, “that’s so sweet, and I was going to make a lewd joke and now I feel guilty.”

“Well,” Yuuri says, giggling a little, “I do know what’s good to suck.”

He kisses Viktor again, cutting off his noise of surprise as he lazily slides his tongue into his mouth as though they have all the time in the world. Which they do. All day, Yuuri’s only job is to please Viktor.

He rolls them over a little so that he’s on his knees over Viktor, and Viktor goes pliant and easy underneath him, soft and malleable and ripe for the taking. He has a flush high in his cheeks when Yuuri pulls away to look at him, and his parted lips are pink and sweetly swollen. _Ravish me_ , he’s saying, with his bedroom eyes and his body language and his delicious, tantalizing scent, and Yuuri goes in for his neck, adding another hickey to the impressive collection he’s made, before kissing across his collarbone and down his chest.

Viktor whimpers and shifts under him as Yuuri licks at his left nipple, sucking and biting gently, playing with the other one at the same time. Viktor’s chest has a lovely flush as well, and that’s one of the things that Yuuri loves about him, the way he blushes with his whole chest when he’s aroused.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor breathes, pushing his hips up against him, and Yuuri can feel his cock against his stomach, hot and hard.

Yuuri runs his hands down Viktor’s ribs, feeling his sides expand as he sucks in a breath, and kisses down to his stomach, over his god-like abs that Yuuri both _adores_ and is incredibly jealous of. Yuuri would have to go to the gym for multiple hours every day _and_ be on an athlete’s diet to have his body look even _close_ to that.

He’s perfectly happy with his own body, though — he came to terms years ago with the fact that he’s always going to be a bit round and soft — and Viktor certainly seems to like him well enough. He hasn’t once felt self-conscious about his shape with Viktor the way that he did with some of his other partners.

“You’re teasing me,” Viktor complains, wiggling impatiently, and Yuuri hooks his thumbs over Viktor’s stunning hipbones and licks down the V of his hips, bypassing his cock to suck on the soft skin at the inside of his parted thighs.

“Ahhh,” Viktor breathes, hugging a pillow to his chest, and Yuuri sucks harder, dotting Viktor’s pale skin with rosy bruises that bloom under his mouth. Viktor’s cock jerks, dripping precome, and Yuuri feels possessive, a little awed at how Viktor reacts to him. He kneads his fingers into Viktor’s strong thighs, taut muscle under his fingers, and hums into his skin, small pleased noises that make Viktor’s breathing go harsh and ragged.

“God,” Yuuri says, pulling away to look at his work, bruises quickly darkening to a purplish red, “fuck,” because really, Viktor is so hot, Viktor should be an unattainable dream, except he’s Yuuri’s own boyfriend and he _wants_ him here in his nest, _wants_ Yuuri to fuck him and suck him off and Yuuri partially can’t believe that he gets to do this, and partially wants to suck his cock so well that Viktor forgets his own name.

He wants to mark him up as much as possible, too, to show that Viktor is _his_ , at least for now.  At least until the marks fade — and Yuuri’s left a lot of them, five on the right and seven on the left — Viktor is intimately, undeniably his, with a reminder of Yuuri’s mouth on his thighs to prove it.

When he’s satisfied with his work, he works his way up to the crease of Viktor’s thigh, pausing to nuzzle against the scent gland there, breathing him in as he softly rubs his cheek against Viktor’s cock, and then moves to suck on his balls, which draws a stuttered, hitching gasp out of Viktor.

“G- _God_ ,” Viktor huffs, legs parted, his heels digging into the mattress, “Yuu—”

He breaks off, the second half of Yuuri’s name swallowed in a moan as Yuuri moves up to mouth over the head of his cock, a little thrill going through him at the salty taste of precome, and then closes his lips around it, his eyes closing with how much he loves the weight on his tongue. He sucks lightly at first, gently hollowing his cheeks as he moves his hand from Viktor’s thigh to touch his balls, and then works Viktor’s foreskin with his tongue, which drives Viktor _nuts_.

He wraps his other hand around the base of Viktor’s cock, slowly stroking him as he suckles and tongues at the head, and Viktor has his teeth sunk into the pillow he’s squeezing, his groans sounding needy and desperate even through the muffling cotton.

Yuuri pulls off with a wet-sounding _pop_ and tugs at the pillow.

“I want to hear you,” he says, and Viktor, wide-eyed, lets go of the pillow, letting Yuuri pull it away and toss it to the other side of the nest.

“Be loud for me. You can put your hands on my head,” Yuuri adds, before closing his mouth around Viktor’s cock again, taking him deep in one go, his tongue sliding flat against the underside as he bobs his head. Viktor cries out hoarsely, and Yuuri feels both his hands settle on his head, a pleasant, guiding weight, long fingers tangling in his hair.

He loves the way Viktor smells, too, musky and vital. His scent is rich and extra sweet with heat, but not in a sickly, cloying way, just delicious and enticing, something unnameable layered over his usual floral notes, and Yuuri wants to _drown_ in him. He can still smell himself on Viktor, too, from when he’d scented him so insistently earlier, and the mingled note of their scents strikes a hot, possessive chord in him. He increases his pace, dragging his lips down to meet his hand, still curled around the base of Viktor’s cock and stroking him with short, quick pumps. Viktor throws his head back with a cry, muscles in his thighs jumping as he tries to stay still.

Yuuri would grin, if his mouth wasn’t so full. He’s incredibly happy with the noises Viktor is making, the way his chest is heaving. He wants to pull as many orgasms out of Viktor as possible and leave him completely satisfied, a fucked-out and boneless mess in his well-used nest. This is a competition against every other person with whom Viktor has spent a heat, and Yuuri really, really hates losing.

Yuuri pulls off and licks a stripe down Viktor’s wet cock to his balls, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin while stroking him slowly with his hand at the same time. Viktor keens and scrabbles at the bedsheet, biting his lip.

“Yuuri,” he says, “Yuuri, Yuuri,” like it’s the most important word he’s ever learned.

Yuuri feels a rush of pride at that, and he nuzzles his cheek against Viktor’s cock, pushing his nose into his scent gland, humming contentedly like there’s no place in the world he’d rather be, and he’s rewarded with a hitching gasp from Viktor. His hands tighten in Yuuri’s hair, tugging a little.

“Yuuri,” he breathes, and Yuuri blinks up at him, lips parted, and doesn’t break eye contact as he moves up to the head of his cock again, licking swiftly over the slit before kissing it a few times, just to show Viktor he means it. Viktor looks like he’s about two seconds away from passing out, and Yuuri can tell from the way his stomach is tensing that he’s pretty close, and he _really_ wants Viktor to come in his mouth, so he takes him in again, as deep as he can, relaxing his muscles and going slowly so that he doesn’t choke and have to pull off. He wants it to be uninterrupted. Viktor clutches at him, breathing hard, and then Yuuri swallows around him and Viktor moans loudly, just like Yuuri wanted him to, drawing his knees up, his hands squeezing into fists in Yuuri’s hair.

 _Good_ , Yuuri thinks, and does it again, and Viktor comes with a cry, his head thrown back, mouth slack and open. Yuuri pulls off a little so that he doesn’t gag, and swallows Viktor’s spill, keeping his mouth on him until he’s spent and panting.

“Yuu _-ri_ , my God,” Viktor says, letting go of Yuuri’s hair to throw his arms out across the nest. Yuuri presses a final kiss to his inner thigh before sitting up and grinning. He wipes his mouth and crawls up to Viktor, who grabs him and rolls them both onto their sides, facing each other.

“Yuuuuuuri,” Viktor sings again, smiling lazily and fluttering his eyelids. “Fuck, that was amazing.”

Yuuri smiles back and lets his hand rest comfortably on Viktor’s ass. Perfect for holding.

“What about you?” Viktor coos, reaching down and palming Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri gasps and pushes into his hand before he can help himself. It was easy ignoring how hard he was when he was focused on Viktor, but now all it takes is for Viktor to loosely wrap his fingers around Yuuri’s cock and he’s already rutting into his hand.

“Eager,” Viktor comments, looking pleased. “Do you want me to help?”

“Ah, yes, please,” Yuuri says, wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck and shoulders and slowing his hips. He’s still rocking forward a _little_ bit, because Viktor’s hand is warm and _there_ and Yuuri really wants him.

“Well, I have a lot of options for you!” Viktor says, holding up a finger. “Hands. Mouth. Or,” he leans in close to Yuuri’s ear, “you can fuck me again, my Yuuri.”

“A-are you sure?” Yuuri manages, even though he gets full-body chills at the thought. “I mean, you just came—”

“Yes, but I’m still so hard, Yuuri, feel,” Viktor whines, pulling Yuuri’s hand towards his cock, and yeah, he is.

“Please,” Viktor murmurs, trailing his fingers down Yuuri’s arm, “I want you to put it in me.”

Yuuri shivers again and sighs out a shuddering breath and says, “Okay, then, I will.”

“Mm, Yuuri, just for me,” Viktor purrs, pleased, wrapping his long limbs around him, before letting him go so that Yuuri can sit up and lean over to the bedside table to find the condoms again.

It’s normal to use condoms during heats and ruts if you’re with a new partner; safer sex rules still apply, despite the additional hormones. This is the first time that Yuuri’s had a partner during his rut, and also the first time that he’s done _this_ with Viktor, so he’s committed to being extra conscientious. The condoms that he bought with Viktor are designed specifically for this— made to stretch over a potential knot, and also able to withstand all the extra _stamina_ of his rut.

When he turns back around, Viktor is on all fours, ass in the air, looking over his shoulder at Yuuri as he presents, dropping down on his elbows and pushing his ass back and whining so prettily. Yuuri’s instincts sweep him forward and he goes, hands on that perfect ass, sliding down to his thighs and brushing over the recent hickies he left there, coming back up to delight in the dripping slick.

“So _pretty_ , Vitya,” he says, and Viktor purrs, pushing his ass into Yuuri’s hands.

“I’m still open from before,” Viktor says, but Yuuri wants to make sure for himself, so he slicks up two fingers and pushes in slowly, smoothly. The vibration of Viktor’s purr changes, falling lower and deeper, and Viktor hums, pleased, although he says a little petulantly, “I _said_ I was ready.”

Yuuri can feel that he’s right, he’s still stretched wide enough to take him, but he fingers him for a minute anyway, searching for his prostate again, and when he finds it Viktor gasps and then sort of melts and then glares half-heartedly over his shoulder.

“I want you to _fuck me_ ,” he insists.

“You’re really impatient, for someone who came five minutes ago,” Yuuri says, and Viktor drops his head to the mattress with a groan.

“Put it in me now, Yuuri, goddamnit,” he grits out, and well, Yuuri’s only so strong, so he pulls his fingers out and wipes them off and then rolls on a condom.

“Alright,” he says, pumping his cock a couple of times, coating himself in Viktor’s slick, “can I—?”

“Yes, _yes_ ,” Viktor says, angling his hips up, and then breaking off into a throaty moan as Yuuri slides in.

“Oh, _good_ ,” Viktor moans, grabbing a handful of the sheet. He sighs, breathy and high. “Yuuri, I missed this.”

“We did this earlier _today_ ,” Yuuri says, feeling certain he misheard. His dick can’t be _that_ great.

“I know,” Viktor says, like he’s telling a secret. “I love your cock in me. Want you so much.”

And that must be the heat fever talking, but it doesn’t stop the rush of desire that thrills through Yuuri. His hands feel burning on Viktor’s hips as he starts moving, and Viktor’s gasping, needy and wanting every time Yuuri rocks into him.

“Harder, Yuuri, please,” Viktor says, “harder,” again, “ _harder_ ,” until Yuuri is pounding into him, dragging him back onto his cock. Viktor is moaning brokenly, his arms useless against the mattress, and Yuuri _wants him_ , all of him, so much, it feels like a physical need inside of him.

He can feel his knot wanting to swell, but he clamps down on it, holding it down with what little restraint he has, because he’s not going to knot Viktor without explicit permission, and he’s also not going to do it the _second time_ he fucks him. He reminds himself of this extra harshly when Viktor looks weakly over his shoulder, all wet eyes and red lips, and says “Ruin me,” in that desperate voice. Yuuri groans and leans over him, pressing him into the mattress, hands hot on his hips as he frantically fucks into him.

Viktor sounds like he’s losing it, vocalized gasps and moans with every breath, crying out to the room, and Yuuri is pretty sure he’s gasping right into Viktor’s ear, but he’s not really able to change that right now, with his whole brain focused on how good it feels, and how much Viktor is enjoying it, and keeping his knot down, which is becoming more difficult by the second.

It becomes almost impossible when Viktor grabs his arm urgently, looking over his shoulder at him.

“Knot me, Yuuri,” he says, his mouth open and pink.

“Ah,” Yuuri manages.

“Knot me,” Viktor repeats, more insistently. “Knot me, _please_.”

And good God, Yuuri _really_ wants to, wants to claim him and keep him, but—

“I don’t know,” he says, with every ounce of his self control. “Maybe we should wait—”

Viktor looks genuinely wounded, sudden tears shining in his beautiful eyes. “You don’t… want to knot me? You don’t want me?”

“That’s— not what I meant,” Yuuri says weakly, distracted by the way Viktor is writhing under him.

“You don’t want to take care of me?” Viktor says, distraught. “You don’t want to make me yours?”

“No, I do, I do,” Yuuri tries to assure him, caught in a wave of urgent panic because _his omega is upset, his omega is upset because of him_. Every instinct is screaming that he needs look after Viktor, make him feel safe and cared for, and it doesn’t matter that that’s what he’s _trying_ to do, he still feels suddenly anxious and awful that he’s not giving Viktor what he wants.

Viktor blinks at him, big watery doe eyes. “I want you to fill me up, Yuuri. You can, can’t you?”

“Fuck,” Yuuri says, and “yes,” and “okay,” and drops the shreds of his self-control, letting his knot swell. He can feel it drag slightly past Viktor’s rim as he pushes in before it pops, locking them together.

Viktor _keens_ , his eyes slipping shut, his mouth falling open, and he’s still for a few moments before he reaches back to grip Yuuri’s thigh, grinding against him and _clenching_ , making stars jump in front of Yuuri’s eyes.

“Ahhhhh,” Yuuri breathes out shakily, caging Viktor between his arms. It’s the first time he’s ever actually knotted anyone, and it feels — God, incomparable to how it feels when he’s alone. Viktor holds on to Yuuri’s forearm and sighs happily, wiggling and squeezing around him, and Yuuri’s knot is _very_ sensitive and it’s not long until he’s coming, biting Viktor’s shoulder as he grinds against his ass, trying to push himself deeper.

“Mm, Yuu _uuri_ ,” Viktor says, stretching his arms out like a cat. “Wow, Yuuri, I feel so _full_.”

Yuuri wraps an arm around Viktor’s chest and rolls them onto their sides, spooning. He holds Viktor tight to him and kisses along his shoulder until he reaches the scent gland above his collarbone, which he sucks on, and Viktor throws his head back and gasps, reaching for Yuuri’s thigh again.

Yuuri thinks that he won’t be able to deny him anything. Not a single thing — he would drain the oceans if Viktor asked, or carry the moon down from the sky himself.

Viktor squeezes Yuuri’s ass and grinds down on his cock again, shifting slightly until he finds the angle that makes his breaths go high and reedy.

“Ah, Yuuri, Yuuri,” he mewls, and Yuuri sucks harder at his scent gland. He loves the way he can taste Viktor’s scent so strongly, bursting over his tongue, heavy and concentrated, and Viktor cries out softly and tips his head further to the side, giving Yuuri as much access as he can in this position.

Viktor marks up easily, and Yuuri winds up leaving a big hickey over his gland, blooming red on his skin, which he kisses over before reaching for Viktor’s hand and drawing it up to his mouth to suck on the scent gland on the inside of his wrist.

“Yuuri,” Viktor whimpers, grinding down harder and squeezing again, and God, Yuuri’s going to come _again_ if he keeps that up. “It’s so good, Yuuri, I’ve never felt so full,” Viktor mutters, as he grinds his prostate against Yuuri’s cock with quick rolls of his hips, little mewling noises escaping from him, and for a very brief, very vivid moment, Yuuri is certain that either this is a hallucination or he’s died and gone to heaven. As far as he knows, nothing on Earth should be able to be this hot.

“Want you,” Viktor mutters, as Yuuri releases his hand and reaches for his other wrist.

“You have me,” Yuuri mumbles, his heart thumping painfully as he kisses Viktor’s palm, reverent and open-mouthed, before turning his mouth to his wrist and the scent gland there. His mouth and nose are full of Viktor’s scent, it’s the only thing he can smell, heat-sweet and strong and undeniably _Viktor_.

“I have you,” Viktor says, muttering to himself, the movements of his hips getting quicker and more desperate. “You’re going to stay and take care of me, you promised, you can’t go.”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, pulling Viktor tighter against his chest. As if Yuuri would ever willingly leave his side. “Of course I’m going to stay.” He mouths over Viktor’s wrist again, biting gently and releasing another wash of Viktor’s scent, and Viktor purrs, arching against him.

“I like that,” he says, his breath coming in gasps. “Everyone forgets about the wrists. You’re so smart, Yuuri. Your mouth on me, makes me feel _owned_. You want me to be yours, right?”

“Vitya,” Yuuri says helplessly, barely able to recover from the heat that spikes through him at that. “Yes, Vitya, yes, I want you.” He folds both his arms around Viktor and leans towards his neck again, sucking on the mark he already left over Viktor's scent gland. Viktor mewls again, writhing, and Yuuri grinds up into him, savoring the delicious noises that Viktor makes as Yuuri shifts his hips.

“My Yuuri,” Viktor mutters, gasping, “needs me, going to stay,” before he grinds down hard and cries out, coming untouched on the rumpled sheets, Yuuri’s name in the moan that escapes from his lips, Yuuri’s arms around his trembling body. He clenches hard around Yuuri’s knot, and Yuuri groans long and drawn out, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in Viktor’s shoulder as Viktor pulls another orgasm out of him.

Viktor seems very satisfied with himself, humming and purring lightly and petting over Yuuri's arms.

“Good, Yuuri,” he says, rolling his body luxuriously, his eyes half shut, and he looks so pleased and pleasured on Yuuri's knot that Yuuri almost can't breathe, wants him again immediately. Which is ridiculous, part of him admits, he's already inside of him, he's not even making any sense to himself.

The other, larger part of him is just yelling about how hot Viktor is.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, kissing his neck, and then holds Viktor tight and rolls him onto his stomach, settling over his back, pressing down against him. Viktor huffs out a surprised breath and looks up at Yuuri out of the corner of his eye, grinning cheekily.

“Okay?” Yuuri asks, hands fluttering over Viktor's sides as he presses sloppy, open-mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulder.

“You want me,” Viktor croons, spreading his legs, pushing his ass up, hooking his ankle behind Yuuri's knee.

“I want you so bad,” Yuuri echoes, muttering into the place where Viktor's neck meets his shoulder. Viktor squeezes around his knot and Yuuri sinks his teeth in, which makes Viktor moan a little.

“Yuuri, take me,” Viktor says, and Yuuri hisses out a breath, grinding into him. He can't move much, but he doesn't want to, focused entirely on Viktor underneath him and the incredible tight heat. His hands settle on Viktor's waist as he mouths over to the scent gland on the other side of his neck, the one he couldn't reach before, and gets to work sucking on that one as well.

Viktor whines and clutches at Yuuri's arm, fisting his other hand in the sheets, rutting down into the bedding as Yuuri marks him up with his mouth.

“Yuuri,” Viktor mewls, “Yuuri, Yuuri,” his tight, toned body wiggling and clenching as Yuuri grinds his hips. He licks over Viktor’s scent gland and the new red mark he made on it, pleased to see evidence of himself on Viktor’s skin, and then kisses his way up Viktor’s neck, blowing hot words of praise past his ear, “so good” and “beautiful” and “mine.”

“Ahh,” Viktor breathes, holding onto Yuuri more insistently.

“Perfect, Vitya,” Yuuri says, nipping at the shell of his ear, and Viktor shudders.

“Yuuri. _You’re_ perfect. This is all I want,” Viktor says, and Yuuri gasps, trying and failing to catch his breath. He reaches up and grabs Viktor’s wrist, pinning his hand to the bed, and Viktor moans high in his throat, squirming, caught between grinding up towards Yuuri or down into the mattress.

“Good, Yuuri, good,” Viktor babbles, flopping his head to the other side and spreading his legs further. He’s really flexible, Yuuri thinks distantly, although he’s distracted by a fresh gush of slick from Viktor that he can feel leaking out onto his thighs as he rolls his hips, and Viktor tenses underneath him, sucking in a harsh breath, before relaxing and breathing out “Ye- _ess_ , Yuuri, _there_.”

Yuuri tries to hit that same spot again, but Viktor’s started clenching rhythmically around him in a way that makes it really difficult to think about anything, and he’s not entirely sure what he’s doing. His hips are moving faster now of their own accord, grinding deep into Viktor, and Yuuri’s panting against Viktor’s shoulder, his skin tacky with sweat.

“God, Vitya,” Yuuri manages, so close to the edge now, snapping his hips in a way that makes his knot shift and draws a thready cry out of Viktor, his head lifting up, his eyes shut, his hands grasping for something to hold onto.

“Yuuri, fuck,” he says, crying out a little with every short thrust now, small gasping moans, his whole body trembling, thrumming under Yuuri. “You, ah, you fill me up so well.”

“I like filling you up,” Yuuri says, and is immediately shocked at himself for saying that, even though it’s true with every ounce of himself, he _loves_ filling Viktor up, stuffing him to the brim and making him shake and tremble and mewl. He wants to make Viktor go out of his head, drunk on his pleasure, better than anyone else has before. He wants to be the best that Viktor’s ever had, and he’s a little startled at himself for these thoughts, but the startled part is not as loud as the heat that rushes through him when Viktor says “Ahh _haa_ oh _God,_ ” and throws a hand back to grip Yuuri’s ass, pulling him closer, even more flush against him.

Yuuri drops his mouth to Viktor’s neck and bites, and Viktor moans, rutting into the mattress with quick aborted thrusts.

“Yuuri, Yuuri, God, I— fuck, I want—”

But Yuuri doesn’t hear what he wants, because Viktor clenches around him and then Yuuri’s coming hard, his toes curling, muscles tight in his thighs, pressing himself down against Viktor as he cries out, hips jerking.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor moans, and his thrusts take on a more frantic pace, rocking down into the bed and back onto Yuuri’s cock, still squeezing in a way that’s not _fair_ , and Yuuri is just stretched out boneless on top of him, along for the ride until Viktor shudders and keens and comes, pressing his cheek into the mattress, jaw slack and face flushed pretty and pink, and the way that he throbs around Yuuri’s knot is enough to wrench a _second_ orgasm out of Yuuri and send him into a violent round of aftershocks. He convulses against Viktor, gasping harshly as he comes down from _that_ and finds his head again.

When he does, he traces over Viktor’s shoulder and Viktor purrs, pouring out a new wave of scent to cover Yuuri.

“You like that?” Viktor says, a little breathless, and Yuuri hums affirmatively against him, still panting softly.

He lifts his head a little to examine the marks he sucked onto Viktor’s scent glands, vibrant red against his pale skin. Good, Yuuri thinks, but he needs more, and he leans in again to suck on the side of Viktor’s neck, lacing their fingers together at the same time. Viktor sighs gratefully and tilts his head, giving Yuuri more room.

He can still taste Viktor’s scent on his sweaty skin, although it’s not as strongly concentrated as it is right over his glands. He still tastes amazing.

“What did you want?” he asks, lifting his head to drop a kiss on the corner of Viktor’s jaw.

“Hmm?” Viktor says, his eyelids fluttering, looking fucked-out and so content.

“Before—before I came, you were about to say you wanted something.”

“I was?” Viktor asks, seeming like he doesn’t have a care in the world. “I’ll remember later, my Yuuri.”

Yuuri hums again, kissing his shoulder, and then rolls them onto their sides, spooning Viktor as his knot goes down, until he’s able to pull out. Even then, after he throws the condom away, he goes right back to the same position, tucking himself up against Viktor’s back and pulling him close.

“You know,” Viktor says, lacing his fingers through Yuuri’s and holding his hand against his chest, purring lazily, “when you suck on my scent glands, it makes the itching stop.”

“Do they itch?” Yuuri asks, interested. His own glands never itch. He gets a buzzy feeling under his skin, but it’s not exactly unpleasant.

“Not in a way where I can scratch them,” Viktor says. “It’s deep down. But you helped it so much.”

Yuuri lifts his head a little to examine the dark red bruises over Viktor’s glands. Marks like this are risque, incredibly intimate, one step away from bonding markings. And a bond is a long-term commitment — often synonymous with engagement rings. Yuuri feels like he should be embarrassed or nervous, but Viktor clearly enjoys the marks so much, and Yuuri just feels possessive and pleased when he sees them. It’s probably just his rut making him feel that way, he knows, but at the same time, he can’t help it.

“They’re beautiful,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss the marks, and settles his head on the pillow behind Viktor. “Just like you.”

Viktor doesn’t answer, but he purrs harder and squeezes Yuuri’s hand, and Yuuri feels so warm and full that he wonders how he doesn’t just fly apart at the seams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from Good for You by Selena Gomez, Viktor's personal theme song
> 
> orgasm tally: 
> 
> viktor: 3
> 
> yuuri: 4
> 
> total: 17
> 
> ;)
> 
> My playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on Youtube because Spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com) and [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw)!
> 
> Thank you all so much for all your comments! ♥︎ They are honestly my lifeblood. I'd love to know specific moments that you particularly like!
> 
> The next chapter is giving me some trouble at the moment - it's about halfway done, but I'm kind of in a rut (lol) inspirationally. I'm hoping to have it up on Tuesday or Wednesday, but I can't promise. I'll be posting updates on my tumblr, though, so check over there if you absolutely can't wait!


	8. love me like the summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri has a lot of emotions, and only some of them are connected to his dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: starts two chapters in a row with Yuuri waking up from a nap  
> Me @ me: live fast die young bad girls do it well
> 
> Also! you may have noticed that I increased the chapter count! That’s because this chapter got too long, so I split it into two. So after this one there will be one more heat/rut chapter, and then the final chapter will be the post-heat. ♥︎
> 
> Can't believe I broke 40k with this update! :O that's a lot of words

Yuuri is dreaming about Viktor.

He’s dreaming about Viktor, and Viktor’s mouth on his body, and Viktor’s hands between his legs, and the heat of him and the noises that he makes, moans rocking out of his mouth as he presses up close. In the dream, Yuuri is feverish and _needs_ him and wants him everywhere, and Viktor complies, holding him strong and perfect as he rubs off against him.

“Vitya,” Yuuri mumbles, and the sound of his own voice pulls him closer to waking. Dream Viktor is a warm haze that slips through his mind, and Yuuri fights, doesn’t want to let go because it’s _such_ a good dream, but it feels _good_ , pleasure spiking through him a strange and different way than before, and he blinks awake to see the real Viktor between his thighs, nuzzling and mouthing at his cock.

“Vitya?” Yuuri gasps, his hand going to Viktor’s head like it’s a magnet.

Viktor purrs against him, pressing his nose into the scent gland at the crease of Yuuri’s thigh and then sucking on it, leaving a red mark and a sweet ache and drawing a strangled breath out of Yuuri.

“I couldn’t wait,” Viktor murmurs, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the soft, delicate skin on Yuuri’s inner thigh. He lifts his head a little and looks at Yuuri through his lashes. “Can I suck you off?”

“Uh huh,” Yuuri croaks, and Viktor grins laciviously, poking his tongue out to lick at the head of Yuuri’s cock.

“You taste good,” he says, as Yuuri jerks underneath him. He dips his head, pressing little kisses to the head and underside of Yuuri’s cock as he rearranges Yuuri’s legs so that they’re draped over his shoulders. Yuuri watches him, clutching at the sheets and Viktor’s hair as Viktor takes him into his mouth, suckling, his gorgeous lips stretched wide.

Yuuri groans, his thighs tensing involuntarily as Viktor sucks, hollowing his cheeks, which enhances his cheekbones, his silver eyelashes fanning down in a devastating sweep.

“Oh God,” Yuuri manages, his voice still rough from sleep, thinking simultaneously that this is the best way he’s ever been woken up and also probably the last, because this is definitely going to kill him.

Viktor twists his tongue against the head of Yuuri’s cock, sinks down deeper, taking more of him in and beginning to bob his head, deep, full motions that make Yuuri’s eyes want to roll back in his head.

“Vitya,” Yuuri rasps, his hand tightening in Viktor’s hair.

“Mmh,” Viktor answers, the sounds distorted because his mouth his full, and Yuuri feels the vibration of his voice in the tip of his cock.

“Faster, _please_ ,” Yuuri says, using the hand in his hair to guide Viktor’s head further onto his cock, and Viktor complies easily, slackening his jaw and moaning a little, increasing his speed to match Yuuri’s pace.

And “oh God oh _God Vitya_ don’t stop,” except he can feel his knot starting to swell and he doesn’t want it to pop while Viktor has his cock in his mouth, that will be uncomfortable for both of them. He chokes out a garbled warning and tugs Viktor’s hair to guide his head away. Viktor makes a noise of protest, which changes to surprise when Yuuri’s knot pops as soon as Viktor’s mouth is clear.

“Oh _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor says, his voice a little raspy, before leaning in to tongue at it, dragging his lips over the swell. “All this for me?” He moves both his hands to cradle and caress the knot, holding it hotly, rolling it between his hands and _squeezing_ , and Yuuri goes a little cross-eyed.  

“I didn’t get to see it before, wow,” he coos, blowing a hot breath over the tip of Yuuri’s cock before taking him deep, down to where the knot swells too wide to fit between his lips. He bobs his head, playing with Yuuri’s knot at the same time, and honestly this is the best blowjob of Yuuri’s _life_. He moans unabashedly when Viktor swallows around him, one hand fisted in his soft hair, his heels digging into Viktor’s back.

He squeezes his thighs around Viktor’s head and Viktor moans a little, curling his tongue, drool slipping down his chin.

“Vitya, Vit _yaah_ , _yes_ ,” Yuuri cries out, soft cries breaking in his throat with every movement of Viktor’s head. Viktor purrs, low in his chest, deep and possessive, and the vibration around Yuuri’s cock is _heavenly_ , narrowing the world to just this sensation. Yuuri moans wantonly, still too newly awake to be self conscious, luxuriating in Viktor’s attention and focus, only on him.

His omega, caring for him, his mouth hot and greedy around Yuuri’s cock, his hands on his balls and his knot, his shoulders propping up Yuuri’s straining thighs.

He’s so _good_ , and he makes Yuuri shiver and moan, his breath shuddering in his chest as Viktor works him, heat trembling and curling in his belly and groin.

“F- _f_ _uck,_ ” Yuuri chokes out, his hand tightening in Viktor’s hair as Viktor brings him right to the edge, pulling off to lick and suck at the head before taking him deep again, his eyes mostly shut, looking intent and completely absorbed and like there’s nowhere else in the world that he’d rather be. “ _Ah_ , Vitya, I, I’m—”

His attempt to warn Viktor that he’s about to come vanishes into a high keen as Viktor does _something_ with his throat and Yuuri’s body jerks up, trying to curl in on itself, his hand tugging at Viktor’s hair in a way that must be painful.

Viktor pulls off again and meets Yuuri’s eyes, still massaging his knot, petting over it and rubbing circles with his thumbs. His eyes are dark, blown wide with arousal, and Yuuri’s breath stutters, his chest heaving.

“I wish this was inside me,” Viktor says hotly, and Yuuri shouts and comes all over his face.

Viktor purrs loudly, startling Yuuri into purring back, and he forgets to be embarrassed, watching open-mouthed as Viktor sticks out his pink tongue and delicately licks Yuuri’s come off his lips.

“Vkusno,” he says, and then dips his head to mouth again at Yuuri’s knot, still purring around him.

“Come here,” Yuuri says, breathless, suddenly frantic for him, and he pulls Viktor up so that he can kiss him properly. Viktor comes willingly, leaning in, and Yuuri sucks at his red, swollen lips, tasting himself on Viktor’s tongue. He wipes the come off of Viktor’s cheeks and chin and kisses soft pecks over his flushed skin before going back for his mouth again, holding the back of Viktor’s head and arching up into him, rolling his body against him. Viktor moans into his mouth as Yuuri hooks a leg over his hip, rubbing the scent glands in his groin against him.

“That was the best way I’ve ever been woken up,” Yuuri says, pulling back just far enough that he can speak. Viktor blinks slowly, a lazy smile stretching his ruddy lips.

“Mmhm?” he purrs, pressing closer again, mouthing over Yuuri’s jaw and moving down to kiss his neck, sucking hard and sweet.

“I’ve never popped a knot during a blowjob before,” Yuuri says, feeling a little shy all of a sudden. “I hope that was okay.”

“Really?” Viktor asks, pulling away from his neck so that he can meet Yuuri’s eyes. Yuuri doesn’t know why he looks so pleased.

He _does_ know that he really likes the way he can see evidence of his mouth in the hickies climbing up Viktor’s neck, scattered across his shoulders and chest, the rosy bruises on his scent glands. Viktor, kneeling over him, grinning delightedly, greedily, looking marked up and _owned_. The marks on his scent glands are truly _indecent_ , _obscene_ , one step away from bonding marks, but instead of feeling embarrassed or shy Yuuri just feels thrilled, the knowledge of it thrumming through his body. Viktor is _his_ , you can see it on his skin, Viktor _wants_ to be his. Yuuri feels possessive, protective, aroused, and just like that he’s ready to go again.

And Viktor hasn’t come yet, which is very obvious with the hard line of his cock against Yuuri’s stomach. Viktor is so _good_ , and Yuuri wants to do everything for him. He _wants_ , so badly, wants Viktor all to himself, wants to mark him so enduringly that Viktor won’t ever forget him. He wants Viktor’s mouth, so sweet and pink, wants his kisses and his smiles and his gasps, and he wants his _cock—_

Yuuri reaches down and lightly touches the head of Viktor’s cock, skimming his fingers down his length, making Viktor buck and gasp.

“You seem interested,” Yuuri says, grinning up at him.

“I’m _very_ interested in you,” Viktor says, matching his grin. “And in _this_ ,” he adds, reaching back down to palm Yuuri’s knot.

“Fuck,” Yuuri breathes, his eyes rolling back a little.

“Is that good?” Viktor asks, looking a little awed. “I _loved_ this in me.” He nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck. “Stretching me open. You have to promise to do that again.”

“Oh my God,” Yuuri groans, and then gasps as Viktor starts sucking on his scent gland, a sweet, soft ache that automatically releases more of his scent and drenches Viktor in it. It’s _satisfying_ , making his alpha hum with pleasure, calming and settling his nerves.

“You will, won’t you? Yuu _uuuri?_ ” Viktor asks, slowly rolling Yuuri’s knot in his hand, experimenting to find the pressure that makes Yuuri shudder and mewl.

“Of course,” Yuuri pants, head tipped back, eyes closed. “I’ll do whatever you want, Vitya.”

“Whatever I want,” Viktor muses. “And what about what you want?” He leans in, kissing Yuuri’s cheek, shifting subtly to rub off against his hip.

“I want you,” Yuuri says, his eyes flying open with a gasp as Viktor squeezes tight around his knot. “ _Everywhere_.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, sounding delighted. “You have me. Always.”

“Always,” Yuuri murmurs. He turns on his side a little, reaching for Viktor’s cock, reveling in the noise Viktor makes as Yuuri starts stroking him off, leaning in to kiss him loosely. He’s slick with precome, like always, and Yuuri smiles against Viktor’s lips. A small part of him that sounds alarmingly like his mother is worried about Viktor getting dehydrated, losing so much fluid, but he figures that’s why Viktor carefully stocked his heat basket with so many rehydrating drinks.

Yuuri rubs his thumb against the sensitive spot right below the head of Viktor’s cock, and Viktor gasps, his mouth falling open. Yuuri licks into his mouth, lazily, sloppily, enjoying the smooth slide of Viktor’s tongue, the little half-swallowed moans he makes as Yuuri plays with his foreskin, as he caresses Yuuri’s knot with his firm, gentle hand.

Yuuri can feel the echo of Viktor’s mouth on his scent gland, too, the skin extra sensitive, and as they break apart to catch their breath, Yuuri can vividly imagine Viktor sucking harder, biting with the intent to bond, pressing their sensitive glands together to share a part of themselves with each other. He would _like_ to bond with Viktor, Yuuri thinks suddenly, to be able to feel what Viktor’s feeling, to have his scent no longer smell just like himself but like Viktor too, an announcement to the world that he’s claimed, taken. _Happy_.

Yuuri opens his eyes and breathes hard, trying to ground himself, although that’s difficult when Viktor’s face is mere inches away, his eyes closed, lost in pleasure. Yuuri traces his gaze over the line of Viktor’s nose, pointy and blushing, and the flutter of his silver eyelashes. This close, he can see the light scattering of freckles high across Viktor’s cheekbones, which Viktor doesn’t like and always covers with concealer before he goes out. Yuuri thinks they’re beautiful. He wants to kiss every single one.

He’s a little shocked that he’s not _more_ shocked at the idea of bonding with Viktor. That’s a long-term commitment — a life-long one, potentially. More binding than marriage. Bonds can be undone, but it’s a conscious and taxing process, and most people who aren’t sure if they’ll last choose not to bond, rather than risk going through the physical and mental effort of reversing it, years down the road.

But Yuuri— Yuuri closes his eyes again, thinking of a future with Viktor, building a life together. Waking up with him and knowing that they chose each other. Coming home to him at the end of the day. Cooking together, walking the dogs, holding hands. _Children_.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, sounding concerned, his large hand cradling Yuuri’s cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I, uh,” Yuuri says, and then swallows hard, his voice wobbling with tears. Viktor wipes gently under his eyes, collecting the offending moisture.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri says, sounding hoarse and hating himself for it. Viktor brings both his hands up to hold Yuuri’s face, kissing him gently.

“Is it me?” Viktor asks softly. “Something I’m doing? Not doing?”

“No,” Yuuri says, closing his eyes again. This is all Yuuri. Viktor doesn’t need to know his creepy domestic fantasies. “No, you’re perfect.” He runs one hand down Viktor’s side, his other hand still loosely curled around Viktor’s cock, and leans in for another kiss, soft and sweet.

“Okay,” Viktor says, still sounding unsure. “What do you want, Yuuri? Is there anything I can do for you?”

 _Anything, everything, yes,_ Yuuri’s alpha sighs, but Yuuri takes a deep breath, meeting Viktor’s gaze determinedly.

“Right now,” he whispers, “you can come for me, Vitya.”

“Oh,” Viktor says, “Okay,” and he doesn’t pry, doesn’t push, and Yuuri loves him for that. “If you come too,” he says, pulling Yuuri’s hips closer towards him, wrapping a hand around both of their cocks.

Yuuri moans despite himself, flinging an arm around Viktor’s shoulders and holding him tight, his other hand joining Viktor’s around their cocks. Each stroke tugs on his knot, making him moan breathy and high, and Viktor watches him with blown-out eyes and parted lips. And this is another new thing for Yuuri — he’s had good sex before, he’s enjoyed it, but no one has ever looked at him like this, with awe, like he’s a work of art, like his pleasure is worth celebrating in its own right. And maybe everything always feels heightened during a rut, but Yuuri still doesn’t think this feeling is just because this is his first rut with a partner — it’s because it’s _Viktor_ , who makes him feel things he’s never felt before.

He wonders how strong their bond would be. If he’d be able to sense Viktor’s emotions through it, intimately connected, or if he’d only be able to feel the hum of his presence, weak bursts of feeling breaking through occasionally, like a glow behind closed eyelids. If they’d be compatible. If Viktor would want to bond with him too.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says roughly, “Yuuri, oh,” and Yuuri finds his lips and kisses him, deeply, filthily, as Viktor comes in the space between them, hot over their joined hands. He gasps into Yuuri’s mouth, his body shuddering and jerking, and Yuuri cradles the back of his head, his fingers buried in soft silver strands.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, stroking his fingers through his hair, and after a minute Viktor blinks his eyes open, his lashes damp, looking at Yuuri softly and full of wonder.

It’s that look, the tender intimacy of it, combined with the way that Viktor’s scent settles over his skin in a sweet embrace, that makes Yuuri bury his nose in Viktor’s neck and rut into his hand until he comes.

“Vitya,” he moans brokenly, muffled against Viktor’s skin, and Viktor’s arms are around him, petting him, holding him as his breathing evens out.

“Is there anything you want to talk about, Yuuri?” Viktor asks after a few minutes of just cuddling, cradling Yuuri’s head against his chest.

“No,” Yuuri says, closing his eyes, breathing him in. “It’s just,” _I love you_ , “I’m really happy.”

He feels Viktor smile, shifting his arms around Yuuri to hold him more securely, starting to purr.

“Me too,” Viktor says, and Yuuri just lets himself be held. Viktor is _so_ good to him, he deserves the entire world, and it almost makes Yuuri tear up again, this overwhelming unnamed emotion rushing over him. All he knows is that he’d like to stay here forever, in Viktor’s arms, in Viktor’s nest, safe with each other. The only two people in the world.

“Can we stay here?” he whispers, his lips moving silently against Viktor’s skin.

“Hm?” Viktor rumbles, shifting to look down at him.

Yuuri leans his head into Viktor’s hand, not really wanting to repeat himself. It’s a silly question that doesn’t really communicate the tentative, trembling hope that’s swirling at the center of it. _Yes, of course_ , Viktor would say, and Yuuri knows the logical answer anyway. They’ll stay here for the rest of Viktor’s heat, and then when they’ve both recovered they won’t stay here anymore. Yuuri doesn’t want to think about that right now.

That’s not what he means, anyway.

Instead, he focuses on the arousal that’s building low in his stomach again, because that, at least, he knows what to do with. It would be easy to swing his leg over Viktor’s hips, show his interest in another round.

But he’s also feeling kind of sticky, and he wouldn’t mind rinsing the sweat and come off of his skin first.

“How do you feel about a quick shower, Vitya?” he asks, curling his hand around Viktor’s neck, his wrist against his scent gland.

 _We could bond_ , his alpha screams, and Yuuri blinks hard and pushes the instinct away.

Viktor shoots an anxious look towards the edge of his nest, worrying his lip between his teeth, and then looks down at his own body and makes a face.

“A short one,” he concedes. “With you.”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, kissing him again.

 

—

 

Viktor’s shower is large, and there’s more than enough room for the two of them inside, although they don’t actually need much room at all, Yuuri thinks, with the way that he can’t seem to detach himself from Viktor for a moment. He does manage to rinse himself off, which is all he really wanted to do — he’s going to get messy again soon enough, but it’s nice to feel clean for a little while. He helps Viktor wash off as well, but mostly he’s interested in running his hands all over Viktor’s smooth, wet skin, letting rivulets of water slip between them as he presses up close, kissing him under the warm spray.

Viktor’s silver eyelashes are beaded with water droplets when he pulls away, looking at Yuuri in awe, and Yuuri _loves_ him, loves him and wants to tell him so, wants to repeat it until Viktor wears it as an indelible mark on his heart.

But something stops him — the fact that he’s in rut, and he feels so _strongly_ , and people in rut often mistake physical intimacy for love, only to realize later that they were wrong. Yuuri knows that’s not the case with him, but he wants Viktor to believe him when he says it. He doesn’t want to see a single instance of doubt in Viktor’s eyes.

So instead, he leans in close to Viktor’s ear, skimming his hands down Viktor’s back to grab his tight, toned ass.

“Clean yourself,” Yuuri whispers roughly. “I want to use my mouth.”

Viktor leans back to look at him, his lips parting, his eyes flashing with heat.

“Really?” he asks, and Yuuri places a finger on his lips, leveling a heated gaze at him.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” he says, and then kisses Viktor one more time before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, slipping back into the bedroom to give Viktor some privacy. He takes the opportunity to drink some of the coconut water from the heat basket, and he lays dry towels down over the soiled sheets, so that Viktor will have a fresh nest to come back to.

When Viktor appears in the doorway some time later, naked and looking uncertainly towards the bed, Yuuri’s waiting for him in his nest, and Viktor beams, crossing the room in a few long steps and tumbling into his arms. His hair is still damp from the shower, but his skin is warm and dry, and he smells _delicious_ , his scent curling sweetly off of him.

“Scent me,” Viktor murmurs, pushing his face into Yuuri’s neck. “The shower washed it off. I want you on my skin.”

Yuuri wants that too, a lot, so he purrs and covers Viktor in a wave of his scent, obnoxiously strong. Viktor purrs back and wiggles closer.

“Better,” he hums, nosing against Yuuri’s ear, his breath against the delicate skin giving Yuuri full-body chills. “I want to smell like you everywhere. All the time.”

Yuuri turns his head and kisses him deep, scratching his nails across Viktor’s scalp.

“I want that too,” he mumbles, leaning his forehead against Viktor’s. His thoughts tumble out of his mouth before he can help it. “Why are you so good to me?”

Viktor pulls away, to look at him, his eyes sparkling. “You think I’m good?”

“Of course,” Yuuri says, going back for another kiss. “I could search the whole world and I still  wouldn’t find anyone better than you.”

“Yuuri!” Viktor exclaims, flinging his arms around his shoulders. He shifts in Yuuri’s lap and Yuuri can feel the slick on his thighs, warm and wet.

“Mm, I think I promised you my mouth,” Yuuri says, trailing his fingers lightly down Viktor’s back.

Viktor looks at him mischievously. “I think you did,” he says. “I tried to be as quick as I could.”

Yuuri grabs a handful of Viktor’s ass and slips his fingers between his legs, brushing against his balls. He’s so _wet_ already, so slick even though he just showered. Yuuri _really_ wants to taste it.

“I really want to taste it,” he says, and Viktor swallows audibly, his lips parting.

“Arrange me how you want me, my Yuuri,” he says, kissing Yuuri’s neck, and an electric thrill courses through Yuuri.

“On your back,” he says, guiding Viktor to lie down in front of him, and Viktor is pliant and malleable under his hands, looking up at Yuuri with hot eyes, half-lidded. Yuuri looks back, certain that Viktor can read his thoughts on his skin, feel them through the heaviness of his gaze, his heated cheeks.

“I want to make you scream,” Yuuri says, sliding his hands under Viktor’s ass, squeezing, and Viktor’s breath catches in his throat.

“Yuuri,” he gasps, dragging a hand across his own chest. “Take me _apart_.”

Yuuri loves that, and he _really_ loves the sound Viktor makes when Yuuri picks up his legs and folds them back against his chest, exposing him, moving one of Viktor’s arms to hold his knees in place.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says, stroking over Viktor’s ass, skimming his hand up Viktor’s strong thigh as he slides the other between his legs to palm at his cock. Viktor moans, throwing his head back, his hair splaying out like a halo.

“I want to make you come all over yourself,” Yuuri says heatedly, and is a little shocked at his own boldness, but Viktor’s answering moan gives him all the strength he needs. Viktor wants him so much. It makes Yuuri feel like the sexiest, most desirable man in the world.

Yuuri traces back from Viktor’s balls, over his perineum, and circles around his rim, where he’s still loose from before. Yuuri’s heart is racing, about to leap out of his chest, and he scoots back and leans down, almost flat against the bed. “ _Itadakimasu_ ,” he says cheekily, and follows his fingers with his tongue.

“Haaaa,” Viktor chokes out, covering his mouth with one hand, still holding tight to his knees with the other. Yuuri squeezes his hip, holding him steady, lifting his ass up a little bit for a better angle. Viktor’s slick tastes heavy and musky and a bit sweet like his scent, and Yuuri lets his eyes fall shut, moaning at the unfamiliar taste on his tongue, warm and undeniably _Viktor_. He laps it up, laving his tongue in wide stripes over Viktor’s perineum and then over his rim, spreading his ass wider with his hands to get more access.

Yuuri kisses over his skin, soft, fluttering things, and Viktor draws in a breath that turns into a squeak when Yuuri breathes hot over his hole.

“Oh my God,” Viktor says, through the hand covering his mouth, his eyes wide, and Yuuri applies pressure with his tongue, slowly circling his rim, and then sucks, kissing open-mouthed and sloppy.

“Ah, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor moans, dropping his hand, scrabbling for purchase again the bedding, and Yuuri speeds up his movements a little, swirling his tongue around, flicking and pushing against his rim.

He brings his hand up between Viktor’s legs again to caress his balls, and Viktor whines as Yuuri moves back a little, blowing cool air over the sensitive skin before leaning back in and really letting himself go, licking and sucking, hungry, appreciative noises slipping out of his throat as he lavishes attention on his hole. He’s been wanting to do this for a while. But he’s still surprised at how much he loves it, loves the way it _tastes_ , heady and vital.

“Yuuri, _fuck_ ,” Viktor says, and Yuuri dips his tongue in, just the tip, licking small circles inside of him. The taste is stronger, musky and heat-sweet, and Viktor makes a high noise in the back of his throat, pushing his hips up as Yuuri slides his tongue in and out, licking him open.

“You’re so _good_ ,” Viktor says, like he can’t believe it, biting his finger, his cock heavy and leaking. Yuuri luxuriates in the flush of pride that runs through him as he rubs his tongue over Viktor’s hole before sliding it back into him, deeper now, circling slowly along his walls. The slick runs hot over his lips, dripping down his chin.

Yuuri _loves_ it.

He reaches around to wrap his free hand around Viktor’s cock, and Viktor gasps and jerks slightly under his grasp, moaning loudly. He’s slick here too, and Yuuri is proud, that Viktor gets off on him so much. He starts to stroke him quickly, pumping his cock, and Viktor breathes out another unsteady breath as Yuuri kisses and licks across his sensitive rim.

“Yuu- _uuri_ ,” Viktor gasps, as Yuuri begins fucking him with his tongue, licking stripes into him, getting him even more sopping wet than he already was.

“You taste so good,” Yuuri says, sitting up a little and giving his tired mouth a break. He rubs his fingers through the slick that’s dripping everywhere and then pushes one finger into Viktor as he continues to tug at his cock. Viktor moans, pushing up against him, his head tosses to the side, his wet, open hole on full display.

“Fill me up,” he says, glancing back at Yuuri, a pink flush high in his cheeks, and Yuuri adds a second finger alongside the first, pushing deeper, fucking into him the way he’d just been doing with his tongue. Viktor keens, biting his lip. Yuuri pets along his walls, further than he could reach with his tongue, searching for the spot that makes Viktor go liquid and boneless. He can feel it, when he hits the right place, and Viktor cries out, his stomach tightening.

“Nnnnnn, good, there, need you,” Viktor manages, one of his legs kicking uselessly, as Yuuri pushes in again to that same spot, and a high, breathy sound falls out of Viktor’s mouth, his eyes half-closed, his hair falling over his flushed, sweaty face.

Yuuri spreads his fingers, stretching Viktor’s already loose rim, and Viktor moans again, long and drawn out, a sound that shifts to a higher note when Yuuri leans down and presses his tongue in between his fingers, flicking it in and out. Viktor _screams_ , twitching under Yuuri’s hands as Yuuri licks into him again, huffing out appreciative noises, moaning like Viktor’s the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. The sounds Viktor's making are going straight to his cock, tugging hot in his stomach, thrumming down his spine. His other hand goes back to Viktor’s cock, working him quickly, rubbing up and over the head, paying attention to his sensitive foreskin, and Viktor’s thighs have started trembling, his muscles tensing.

“Yuuri, I’m gonna— oh my God, I wanna come, _please_ let me come—”

 _Come for me_ , Yuuri thinks intensely, and sends out a rush of scent, covering Viktor in it. Viktor cries out, loud, spasming around Yuuri’s tongue, his hips jerking, his body curling up as he comes on his chest, almost hitting his chin. He gasps with the shock of it, tensing and then sagging into Yuuri’s hands, and Yuuri catches his legs as they fall loosely to the sides, holding him steady and gently lowering his feet back to the bed.

“Fuck,” Viktor mutters, looking up at the ceiling, his eyes a little hazy, stripes of come painting his flushed, heaving chest.

“You’re perfect,” Yuuri says reverently, crawling up Viktor’s body to treasure the debauched picture he paints, panting for breath, covered in his own come.

He wants so, so badly to kiss him. Or to lick him clean with his tongue. But he can’t do that until he washes his mouth out, so instead he uses a corner of the towel Viktor’s lying on to gently clean him up.

“I’ll be right back,” Yuuri says, moving to get up, and Viktor’s hand tightens around his wrist like a vice.

“Yuuri, no, where are you going?”

Yuuri holds back a fond laugh, pushing Viktor’s hair out of his face. “The bathroom. I’ll just be a few minutes. Keep the nest warm for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Viktor breathes, looking up at him with the most adoring expression. “Don’t take too long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter because I nearly died while writing it
> 
> You don’t know true fear until you accidentally send the sentence “ _His omega, caring for him, his mouth hot and greedy around Yuuri’s cock, his hands on his balls and his knot, his shoulders propping up Yuuri’s straining thighs_ ” into your non-fandom friends’ group chat
> 
> R I P 
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> I can’t believe we’re getting close to the end of this fic! I know some people are sad to see it end, and I am too tbh :’( lov these soft boys. But I have many, many more ideas in the works! :)
> 
> Also! I have two scenes planned for the next chapter, but I will ~probably~ have space to fit in a third, so if you have a request for something you’d like to see, please do let me know!
> 
> orgasm tally: 
> 
> viktor: 2
> 
> yuuri: 2
> 
> total: 21
> 
> ;)
> 
> My playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on Youtube because Spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw) and [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com)! 
> 
> Your comments sustain me, make the sun shine, clear my skin, & water my crops
> 
> EDIT: I know it's been about a month and a half longer than I intended before posting the next update, but I promise I haven't abandoned this fic! the final two chapters are coming, I promise. <3


	9. sweet sugar candyman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> weather forecast: hot hot hot, with a 100% chance of dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S HERE, BABES
> 
> As a reward for your patience, please enjoy the longest chapter to date. 9.8k of tender smut to finish up the heat
> 
> (I probably should have split this into two chapters, but w/e) 
> 
> \+ infinite thanks to [slightlied](http://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlied/pseuds/slightlied) and [kiaronna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kiaronna/pseuds/kiaronna) for beta-ing the first half of this extravaganza, and for being so enthusiastic and supportive <3 and to [vityanikiforova](http://archiveofourown.org/users/vityanikiforova/pseuds/cutesudon) for their pep talks and endless positivity! Thank you from the bottom of my heart for letting me yell at you about my awful writing process and for offering encouragement when I needed it the most :') 
> 
> \+ I wrote a smutty ficlet set in the future of this verse, after the end of this fic. You can read it [here](https://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com/post/164802601548/ok-well-i-want-all-of-them-but-5-especially); perhaps it’s canon, perhaps not ;)

Viktor _wants_ to wait patiently, he really does, because Yuuri told him to and he wants to be good. He tries to make himself comfortable, curling up on his side and pulling one of the soft fuzzy blankets over himself, but it’s difficult to relax when his nest smells so strongly of Yuuri and Yuuri isn’t there.

The new towels that Yuuri put down are rough against Viktor’s extra sensitive skin — without Yuuri here to distract him, he feels it acutely, aware of every sensation. Still, it’s a lot better than lying on soiled sheets. Viktor thrums with pride — he built a good enough nest that Yuuri wants to take care of it. Take care of _him_.

 _We’re being good_ , his omega chants proudly. Yuuri has accepted his nest, made it _theirs_. Viktor feels warm and fuzzy, satisfaction curling deliciously through his chest. He’s a good omega.

But he wishes Yuuri were _here_ , and even though he rationally knows that Yuuri is just in the next room, it doesn’t ease the aching want inside of him. It doesn’t help that Yuuri’s spicy, intoxicating scent is clinging everywhere around Viktor, on the clothes lining the nest, on the sheets, on the pillows surrounding him. It’s so much, and he wants _more_ , and he rolls over, gathering up the pillow Yuuri had been lying on and burying his face in it, closing his eyes to breathe it in more deeply. He doesn’t want to spend a heat without Yuuri ever again.

The door to the bathroom creaks open, and Viktor perks up immediately, looking up to see Yuuri’s face light up as he practically runs to the bed to greet Viktor.

“Hi,” Yuuri breathes, leaning in to kiss Viktor upside down. Viktor giggles at the unfamiliar feeling of Yuuri’s chin against his nose, catching Yuuri’s face and neck in his hands as he kisses back eagerly.

“Hi,” he responds, equally giddy, beaming up at the beautiful man above him. “Come here,” he adds, holding his arms out, and Yuuri flops gracelessly into the nest in his haste, making both of them laugh. Yuuri pouts as he crawls into Viktor’s arms, but his eyes are still sparkling, and Viktor giggles at him as Yuuri leans in and mouths at his neck, licking over his scent gland.

Yuuri ignites the fire smoldering just under his skin, and Viktor _wants_ , he needs Yuuri close, and yet at the same time he feels so _light_ that he has to stop and catch his breath. This is so unusual for him. He’s not used to feeling _happy_ during his heats. The need is there, the desire, but it’s mixed together with a bubbling joy that constantly threatens to spill over into laughter.

“I missed you,” Viktor says, purring, nuzzling into Yuuri’s hair, overcome by a rush of sweet emotion. There’s nothing that he wants for in the entire world. He has everything right here in his arms. “Scent me?” he asks, taking Yuuri’s wrist and drawing it up to his neck. Yuuri complies, rubbing the gland in his wrist deeply against the glands in Viktor’s neck, and Viktor sighs, pleasure prickling through him, the timber of his purr falling deeper as Yuuri’s scent gets back on his skin, where it belongs.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, his voice colored with something like awe, and he shifts to wrap himself further around Viktor’s body, his leg hitched over Viktor’s hips, his arms warm over Viktor’s chest, his nose pressed into Viktor’s neck.

“Hmm, you must be getting tired of smelling me, Yuuri,” Viktor rumbles, low in his chest, running his hand up Yuuri’s back, carding his fingers through Yuuri’s hair.

He’s joking, of course, and it’s obvious with the way that Yuuri is pressed into him, but Yuuri still makes a disgruntled noise and holds on tighter. Viktor smiles and presses his lips to Yuuri’s hair and sends a thick wave of his heat-sweet scent rolling over him. Yuuri purrs deeply, his eyelashes fluttering against Viktor’s skin as he rolls his head to the side, leaning against Viktor’s shoulder.

“You—” Yuuri takes a deep breath, flooding his lungs with Viktor’s scent and purring harder. “You’re the best thing.”

Viktor feels a little like he can’t breathe, and he wants to blame it on the heat scent that he’s spilling wantonly into the room, but he knows it has far more to do with the man curled around him, warm and solid and _here_. He thinks vaguely of his last heat, the room filled only with his lonely scent, and he knows instinctively that he smells different this time — focused on _keeping_ his partner, rather than attracting him. He’s doing a pretty good job of that, he thinks; Yuuri doesn’t seem inclined to go anywhere.

His instincts are telling him to hold Yuuri close and fast and near, and he’s about to open his mouth to ask if Yuuri wants to knot him again when Yuuri speaks first, muttering into his shoulder.

“Vitya,” Yuuri starts, wiggling himself even closer. “Do you want—” He pauses, licks his lips, kisses Viktor’s collarbone. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Viktor feels a _lot_ like he can’t breathe. Is this what a heart attack feels like? He’s going to go into cardiac arrest and he’s not even going to get the chance to _make love to Yuuri_ —

“ _Yes_ ,” Viktor gasps, holding on to Yuuri like he’s suddenly going to evaporate. Yuuri sounded almost _nervous_ , almost like he thought Viktor was going to say _no_ , which, _what_ , Viktor can’t even _imagine_. “Yes, of course, do you want—”

“I want you,” Yuuri says lowly, rolling his hips against Viktor in a really distracting way.

“God, Yuuri,” Viktor says, rushed, letting his hands drift lower to palm Yuuri’s ass, deliciously plush under his fingers. “I want you too.”

“Then take me,” Yuuri insists, planting a hand on Viktor’s chest and pushing himself up so that he’s straddling Viktor’s lap, looking down at him with an expression that makes Viktor’s breath catch in his throat. He follows Yuuri, pushing himself up on one arm and reaching for Yuuri with the other, cradling his jaw and pulling him forward into a burning kiss. Yuuri kisses him eagerly, headily, his clever tongue licking hotly into Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor feels drunk, drowning in him.

Yuuri kisses along his jaw, up to his ear, his breath sending shivers down Viktor’s spine. “I missed you,” Yuuri whispers sweetly, grinding down against Viktor’s cock. “I want you _inside—_ ”

Viktor groans, muttering a string of expletives in Russian, still not quite sure how he wound up here, with this gorgeous, impossible man in his arms, demanding to be fucked. He’s the luckiest man in the entire world, thrilled with the heady knowledge the Yuuri wants _him_ , that he has the chance to give Yuuri what he wants.

“Of course, my love,” Viktor says, looking up at him, holding onto his hips, not even registering the pet name that slips traitorously past his lips until Yuuri’s biting at the crook of his neck, pressing himself flush against Viktor’s body.

Viktor tenses, suddenly terrified. But it’s fine, right? People say things like that all the time in the heat of the moment, it doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just an endearment.

In any case, Yuuri doesn’t respond, which is good, because Viktor would rather fling himself out a window than talk about it right now. Yuuri is right here and he wants, he wants, he doesn’t want to think.

Luckily, Yuuri thoroughly distracts him again by slipping his hand between Viktor’s legs, collecting the slick there and then sinking a wet finger into himself, his face buried in Viktor’s neck.

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor groans, holding him tight, feeling like he’s going to combust any second. He wasn’t built to withstand this. “We have lube—”

“Don’t need it,” Yuuri says, his lips moving against Viktor’s scent gland. “This is better.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Viktor whispers, glancing up at the ceiling, which does absolutely nothing to stop the way his heart is thudding in his chest. Yuuri had been holding onto Viktor’s shoulder with his free hand, but now he takes Viktor’s head and tilts it so that he can kiss him, panting into Viktor’s mouth as he works himself open.

“Yuuri, let me?” Viktor asks, dropping his hand to circle a teasing finger around where Yuuri is two fingers deep.

“Yeah, yeah, do it,” Yuuri says, breathless, abandoning Viktor’s mouth to nuzzle against his jaw and nibble his ear. Viktor reaches down to where the slick is seeping out of him, hot and plentiful — and well, who _wouldn’t_ be wet, with Yuuri in their lap — and coats his fingers, coming back up to nudge against Yuuri’s fingers, where they’re still buried inside of him, moving in small circles. At Viktor’s prompting, Yuuri withdraws his hand and lets Viktor take his place, sliding slick fingers inside — and oh, God, it’s _hot_ , and Yuuri shivers in his arms, a soft moan escaping him as he arches softly, his eyes half-shut.

“Vitya,” he murmurs, one arm around Viktor’s neck, one planted flat on his chest, and Viktor, watching him, is amazed, astonished, _stunned_ that he gets to have this, that he ever thought his life was complete without this.

He warns Yuuri before he adds a third finger, and Yuuri hisses but goes fluid, melting against him. Viktor spends some time stretching him gently, whispering soft words of encouragement,  and then crooks his fingers and searches for Yuuri’s prostate — and oh, that must be it, because suddenly Yuuri’s digging his teeth into Viktor’s shoulder, sinking his nails into Viktor’s back in a way that’s definitely going to leave marks.

“Yeah?” Viktor asks, his voice a bit hoarse, continuing to rub at that spot inside of Yuuri, and Yuuri _whimpers_ , holding tight to Viktor’s shoulders, his muscles tensing and relaxing again, his eyes closed and his face flushed.

“Do you want me to make you come like this?” Viktor asks, thinking back to earlier, when Yuuri had turned him to putty with his fingers. He’d like to do the same for Yuuri, if Yuuri wants it. He’d like to do anything that Yuuri wants.

“Eeuhhh,” Yuuri says, which definitely isn’t a word. Viktor feels prouder than he probably should.

“Is that a yes?”

“Y-yeah,” Yuuri breathes, shaky. “No. I— I want,” he drags his head up, the color high in his cheeks, “your _cock_. In me.” He leans in close to Viktor’s ear, holding the back of his head. “Now.”

“Okay,” Viktor breathes, his heart stuttering. “I— yeah, okay, yeah.”

Yuuri hums, still pushing back onto Viktor’s fingers, as Viktor reaches over and grabs a condom. Yuuri takes it from him, because apparently he’s not moving fast enough,  and tears it open, rolling it onto Viktor’s cock. Viktor shivers at the touch, gripping Yuuri’s thigh tight with his free hand.

“Are you ready?” he asks, and Yuuri nods impatiently, shuddering when Viktor slips his fingers out.

“Come on,” Yuuri says, scooting forward to line himself up, holding Viktor’s cock to steady it. Viktor can feel the tip sliding against Yuuri’s hot rim, and his eyes go wide involuntarily, his mouth slightly open as Yuuri bites his lip and sinks down, his head tipping back as he works the head in. _Oh_ , he’s hot, he’s hot and tight and _delicious_ , and Viktor gasps with the sensation, the newness of it.

“Fuck,” Viktor bites out, holding himself very still. “ _Yuuri_.” His hands find Yuuri’s hips as Yuuri smiles, sighing, his eyes slipping shut as he sinks further, rocking gently, taking it slowly until he’s sitting in Viktor’s lap, arms looped around his neck.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, low, blinking slowly, his lids shuttering over blown-out pupils, “ _Vitya_ ,” and Viktor’s going to lose it, he can’t, he can’t, this is too much. “You feel good,” Yuuri whispers in his ear, shifting ever so slightly, and Viktor bites down hard on his lip so that he doesn’t yell with the feeling consuming him.

“I’m gonna,” Yuuri says softly, and starts to move, rolling his hips in Viktor’s lap, Viktor’s cock sliding slickly inside him.

Viktor’s train of thought promptly catches on fire, flies off a cliff, and crashes into a mountain. _Oh my God,_ his brain helpfully supplies, _oh my God, oh my God_ —

“We should have done this much sooner,” Yuuri adds, moving a little faster, rising up so that he can go a little deeper on each thrust. His chest heaves as he sucks in a breath, and Viktor ducks his head to lick at one of his perfect nipples, his hand on Yuuri’s waist, cradling his ribcage. The sharp gasp above him is positive, so Viktor closes his lips and sucks, rolling it with his tongue, scraping gently with his teeth.

“I like that,” Yuuri says, holding onto Viktor’s shoulder and his hair, moving his hips smoothly, and a burning pride lights in Viktor’s chest as he moves to lavish attention on the other nipple, which earns an even bigger reaction from Yuuri.

“Ah, God,” Yuuri hisses, and then Viktor feels a hand in his hair, tangling sharply and pulling.

“Come up here,” Yuuri says, and drags Viktor away from his chest so that he can kiss him, his hand splayed on the side of Viktor’s face as he kisses him sweetly, drinking him in, even as he swivels and grinds his hips, and it feels so _good_ Viktor is certain he’s going to die.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, looking at him— flushed and disheveled, his pink lips parted as he writhes obscenely in Viktor’s lap, searching for the angle that will allow him to grind his prostate against Viktor’s cock. Viktor feels nothing short of awe.

“I wanna,” Yuuri says, moving faster, “harder,” and Viktor bites his lip, because as much as he wants to keep it sweet and syrupy, the heat rushing under his skin is screaming for more.

“Anything you want,” Viktor assures him, trying to keep his voice steady as he feels like he’s about to shake apart.

Yuuri only moans in response, riding Viktor in earnest now, quickly increasing his pace until he’s going hard and fast, practically bouncing himself on Viktor cock.

“Ah,” Yuuri gasps, “Vitya, Vitya—”

Viktor digs his fingers into Yuuri’s thighs, loves the way they feel under his hands, the way they flex and shift. “Yes, babe, just like that,” he murmurs, sliding his hands up to hold onto Yuuri’s hips, his waist. Yuuri hooks one hand around the back of Viktor’s neck and leans back, supporting himself with the other, his back in a hard arch as he fucks himself on Viktor’s cock. He pants, his breaths vocalized, his face screwed up want.

“I need—” Yuuri gasps, coming down hard and keening.

“What?” Viktor asks, touching his sides, his sweaty skin. “Tell me what you need—”

“ _More_ , I want—” Yuuri groans, sounding frustrated.

Viktor growls, fire curling low in his belly, and then flips them over so that Yuuri’s on his back and Viktor’s over him, pressing one of Yuuri’s legs up to his chest as he pushes in.

“Ah,” Yuuri gasps, surprised, beyond words for the moment.

“Let me,” Viktor says, his voice low with arousal, “Let me give it to you,” because Yuuri’s given him so _much_ , and this is something he can do for him, make Yuuri feel so good. Yuuri’s eyes go heated and half-lidded as he tilts his head back, arching his back as Viktor snaps his hips, driving in hard and making Yuuri’s body jolt.

“Ye-esss,” Yuuri breathes, reaching up to grab a fistful of the pillow, his eyes falling shut in pleasure. “Yes, Vitya, like that, God—”

And Viktor can feel the slick dripping down his own thighs as he fucks into Yuuri, and he can’t even blame himself, because Yuuri is _incredible_ , Yuuri is the hottest thing he’s ever experienced.

“God, Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, reverent, unable to articulate how perfect Yuuri is, how much he _wants_ , as he moves between Yuuri’s legs, thrusting into Yuuri’s body. Yuuri pants, high and vocalized, holding onto the pillow with one hand and Viktor with the other, his mouth open and eyes closed, open and completely unselfconscious. And Viktor loves this, loves _him_ , loves that he can do this for Yuuri, make him feel so good that he arches and writhes against the bedsheets, saying _yes_ , asking for _more_. But Viktor’s already too close, he’s not going to last long enough—

“Yuuri,” Viktor starts, gritting it out, a warning, but Yuuri reaches out and holds him tighter, his eyes snapping open to hold Viktor’s gaze, all raw desire, and Viktor is lost.

“Ruin me,” Yuuri demands, and Viktor gasps, hips stuttering, bowing forward as he comes too soon, his orgasm hitting him like a punch to the stomach.

“Fuck,” Viktor gasps, shuddering, holding bruisingly tight to Yuuri’s hips.

“Did you just,” Yuuri says, and then laughs delightedly, covering his mouth with his hand. “Come here,” he says, and pulls Viktor down on top of him, letting him lie on his chest like a puddle of goo while he strokes his hair and kisses his forehead.

Viktor’s his head is still spinning, and he can’t quite believe that just happened, but the arousal is still coiled tight in his belly, dripping electric down his spine in hot waves. He’s still inside Yuuri, buried deep, and Yuuri’s hands are on him, comforting and exciting all in one.

“Vitya,” Yuuri murmurs, deep and slow, and Viktor feels like his blood is liquid fire, coursing through his veins. Yuuri winds his arms around Viktor’s shoulders, holding him close as Viktor gasps, flooding Yuuri with his scent.

“Yuuri,” Viktor answers, still breathless. He touches Yuuri’s sweaty face, runs fingers through his dark hair so it sticks up in all directions. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to— this always happens with my heats, my stamina is shit—”

“Vitya,” Yuuri silences him, pressing a finger against his lips. “I don’t care. Keep going.” He giggles, pinching Viktor’s butt. “I can _feel_ that you’re still hard.”

“Wow,” Viktor murmurs, grinning down at him. He’s so, so beautiful; smiling, sweaty, the color high in his cheeks as he wiggles his hips further onto Viktor’s cock.

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, and Yuuri licks his lips and then pulls him down to steal a kiss, filthy and burning. Viktor moves his hips experimentally, and yeah, he _can_ keep going, surprisingly— as much as he’s used to the physical demands of his heats, he’s never done _this_ before, fucking someone right through his own orgasm and out the other side.

He’s never done _this_ , with Yuuri, and really that’s all that matters, because every single thing is new with Yuuri, and everything he does with Yuuri is the only thing that matters, anymore.

Viktor kisses him again, pushing in to fuck him slow, long, smooth thrusts, fluid and sweet.  Yuuri turns his head to the side, gasping breaths falling out of his slack mouth as Viktor rolls his hips, and Viktor kisses his cheek, his jaw, his lips, his balls brushing against Yuuri’s skin.

“My Yuuri,” he says, kissing him again, feeling even more possessive than before; Yuuri is _his_ , only his. No one else gets to have him. No one else gets to see Yuuri’s face loose with pleasure, his skin flushed and sweaty, open and exposed just for Viktor. No one else gets to show Yuuri their love and devotion like this, this close press of bodies.

He’s beautiful, so, so, beautiful, and Viktor is so lucky. Yuuri _wants_ him, and Viktor feels powerful, strong enough to take on the world, to defend Yuuri. His love.

His _love_ , whom he’s keeping safe in his nest, taking care of, making him feel so good that he wants to stay. Viktor really wants him to stay. He wants to be the only thing that Yuuri ever desires.

Viktor finds one of his hands, lacing their fingers together on the pillow next to Yuuri’s head. He shifts his thrusts, changing the angle a bit, and Yuuri gasps, wrapping his legs around Viktor’s waist, locking his heels behind his back.

“Mn, _yes_ ,” Yuuri breathes, “do, do that,” and Viktor grinds in harder, smiling, panting, delighted that he’s the one to make Yuuri’s toes curl like that, his face go slack and open. He takes the opportunity to kiss down Yuuri’s neck, sucking on his scent glands the same way Yuuri had done for him, sending out a wave of his own scent to cover Yuuri.

“Oh, my God,” Yuuri gasps, and wraps his legs around Viktor even tighter, winding his arms around his shoulders, locking him so close that Viktor can barely thrust and is just sort of grinding into Yuuri’s ass, pressing in against that sweet spot.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says suddenly, “Vitya, touch me,” and Viktor reaches between them to wrap his hand around Yuuri’s cock, and so he gets to feel Yuuri’s knot swelling, feels it pop under his fingers.

“Oh, _Yuuri_ ,” Viktor coos, low and heated, “is it that good?”

Yuuri gasps as Viktor rolls his knot in his hand, his eyes rolling up a bit as Viktor snaps his hips at the same time, driving in against Yuuri’s prostate.

“Perfect,” Viktor murmurs, leaning in to kiss the surprise off his face. “Beautiful, Yuuri,” he says against Yuuri’s parted lips, stroking up and down Yuuri’s cock before returning to his knot, squeezing it, playing with it, and Yuuri gasps, his legs trembling, his limbs going loose as he mouths at Viktor’s scent gland, his breath shaky.

Viktor thrusts in hard, and Yuuri claws at his back, raking lines with his nails, and Viktor cannot imagine anything more perfect than this.

“Vitya,” Yuuri whimpers, a plea, and Viktor’s a little shocked to see tears in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Viktor asks, stopping, suddenly terrified that he’s hurting him. He touches Yuuri’s cheek, cradling his jaw with his hand.

“Yeah,” Yuuri whispers, looking up at him, covering Viktor’s hand with his own. “I’m happy.” He slides his other hand down to Viktor’s ass, pulling Viktor closer between his legs. “Keep moving, _please_.”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, “ _Yuuri_ ,” and he’s keening into Yuuri’s sweaty shoulder as his hips snap, and Yuuri is cradling his head, his neck, whispering hot words of encouragement and pleasure.

Yuuri wants him, Yuuri trusts him, and Viktor _wants_.

He also wants Yuuri to _come_ , wants to be the one to make him come, and so he wraps his fingers around his cock again, squeezing and stroking him in time with his long thrusts. He rubs his thumb up under the head where Yuuri is extra sensitive, drawing beautiful noises out of him, noises which turn to mewls when Viktor rolls his knot in his hand while sliding in against his prostate at the same time, and Yuuri is scrabbling at his back, his head tipped back, eyes shut, not caring how loud he is as he moans.

Viktor dips his head and kisses Yuuri’s neck, tasting the salt on his skin, tasting his concentrated spicy scent, and sucks on his scent gland, nipping just a bit, a question he can’t bear to ask out loud, not yet.

That, of all things, seems to be what pushes Yuuri over the edge, has him crying Viktor’s name as he curls up and comes hot over his stomach, pressing his face into Viktor’s shoulder and his nose into his scent gland, shaking with the force of his release.

He clings to Viktor, holding him tight, and Viktor wraps an arm around him, supporting him, keeping him close.

“Wow,” Yuuri says eventually, his lips against Viktor’s sweaty skin.

“Wow,” Viktor echoes, smiling far too brightly, and Yuuri pulls him into another kiss, deep and hot, holding Viktor’s face, his legs open and sweetly relaxed. Viktor can’t resist rocking his hips again, just a little.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yuuri mumbles against his lips, pulling back to look Viktor in the eye and grinning languidly, his lips pink and kiss bitten. “Come inside me again,” he says, blinking slowly, and well, how could Viktor argue with a command like that.

He leans his weight on the arm by Yuuri’s head, still kissing him as he reaches down and grabs Yuuri’s thigh with his other hand, squeezing. Yuuri’s thighs could kill a man. Viktor would die happily. He almost _does_ die when Yuuri arches underneath him and makes a cut off sound into his mouth, his muscles flexing under Viktor’s hand, his hands skating down Viktor’s back as Viktor rolls his hips, thrusting smoothly into him.

Viktor hitches Yuuri’s leg up over his hip, and Yuuri gasps softly, wrapping both his legs around Viktor again. Viktor moans, low and needy, breaking the kiss to suck on Yuuri’s scent gland again, the other side this time, filling his mouth and nose with Yuuri’s intoxicating scent, wanting Yuuri surrounding him, coating him, everywhere.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes, baring his neck, letting Viktor do as he likes, his hands hot on Viktor’s skin. Viktor can feel the heat building up low in his stomach, a fresh gush of slick dripping down his thighs as arousal thrills through him, electric, and Viktor groans as his rhythm breaks down, his thrusts getting shorter and shallower, jerky. He’s so close to the edge, and Yuuri can tell, Viktor can see it in the way Yuuri’s eyes go dark he watches him, the way his nostrils flare.

Yuuri places a hand on the side of Viktor’s neck, covering his sensitive scent gland and the tender love bites scattered across his skin.

“Come for me,” he says, and his voice is quiet but there’s no denying that it’s a command. Viktor is helpless in the face of the blinding heat that sweeps through him at that, and he comes, Yuuri’s name on his lips, his hips stuttering weakly a few last times as he empties himself.

“Oh,” Yuuri breathes, watching him.

Viktor _wants_ him to see exactly how weak he is for everything that Yuuri does, how helpless Yuuri makes him, he wants to bare all these hidden, intimate parts of himself to Yuuri’s tender, trusting gaze. But his arm is starting to tremble, holding himself up, so for the second time he lets himself collapse on top of Yuuri, breathing heavily.

Yuuri’s hand cards through Viktor’s sweaty hair, and Viktor closes his eyes, purring, enjoying the feeling.

He feels _loved_.

Viktor’s eyes snap open at that, and he raises himself up to kiss Yuuri softly and then pulls out, rolling to the side and discarding the condom. His feelings are dangerous, _too much_. He doesn’t want to be too much for Yuuri. He’s not sure he could handle it if Yuuri rejected him.

Viktor breathes slowly, hoping that he can pass off his blush and bright eyes as part of his post-orgasmic glow. Hopefully, Yuuri won’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

“Oh my God,” Yuuri says, pushing himself up a little to run his fingers through a genuine _puddle_ of slick in the spot underneath where Viktor had been. Viktor can’t even find it in himself to feel embarrassed.

“I really excite you, don’t I?” Yuuri says, raising his fingers to his mouth.

Viktor groans and throws an arm over his face, because if he watches Yuuri lick his slick off his fingers, that’s it, he will actually combust. “I thought you would have figured that out by now,” he says, peeking out to see Yuuri’s pink tongue flicking between his fingers, and promptly covers his eyes again.

“Well, I did, but— you’re amazing,” Yuuri says, his words a rush of breath. “I still can’t believe it, sometimes.”

Viktor uncovers his face at that, wiggling back over to Yuuri and wrapping his arms around his waist, burying his face in his hip.

“I can’t believe it either,” he says, slightly muffled. “How did I find someone as perfect as you?”

Yuuri doesn’t say anything to that, but after a moment, Viktor feels his hand in his hair, stroking gently. He purrs and cuddles up closer to Yuuri, closing his eyes. _Content_.

Viktor would be happy to stay there forever, but he’s forced move a few minutes later when Yuuri reaches over him and leans down to get the heat basket with the drinks and snacks. Yuuri takes his water bottle and drinks deeply, and Viktor is entranced by the movement of his lips, the column of his throat as he swallows.

How is it possible to be so aroused by every single thing a person does?

Yuuri finishes drinking and sits back with a sigh, offering Viktor his own water bottle as well. Viktor accepts it gratefully. He hadn’t even noticed how thirsty he was, and he drinks quickly, taking several long swallows before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and grinning.

“I think I owe you another orgasm,” he says.

Yuuri chokes slightly and flushes.

“I don’t think you don’t owe me anything,” he says, putting both bottles back in the basket and returning it to its spot on the floor.

Viktor pouts. “Fine. Can I suck you off anyway?”

Yuuri’s breath catches a little. “I mean, yeah,” he says, and Viktor grins, feeling like he won the lottery.

“And after that,” he adds, his words coming out in a rush, “will you knot me again?”

Yuuri’s knot is still inflated at the moment, so they’ll have to wait for it to go down before Yuuri can fuck him again. Besides, Viktor has really been wanting Yuuri back in his mouth.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, closing his eyes and breathing out. “God.” He opens his eyes again and touches Viktor’s face, gently caressing his cheek and then booping his nose. “Of course. That’s what I’m here for. As many times as you want.”

“Good,” Viktor purrs, crawling forward on his hands and knees to lean in and kiss Yuuri’s lips. “So good to me, my Yuuri.”

He tries to ignore the uncomfortable little twinge in his chest at Yuuri’s phrasing— surely Yuuri knows that the simple fact of his presence is all that Viktor wants? Viktor would still want him here even if they did nothing sexual together in the slightest. He’d be happy to just have him nearby, maybe just holding his hand while he took care of himself.

He reaches down to palm Yuuri’s cock, and Yuuri gasps against his mouth, almost a whimper. He’s _gorgeous_ , and he’s _Viktor’s_ , Viktor’s alpha, here in Viktor’s nest.

“Yuuri,” Viktor says. “You’re so beautiful. Fuck my face.”

Yuuri squeaks. “What?”

“Please?”

Yuuri looks at him for a moment, unreadable, and then he puts his hand on Viktor’s shoulder, gently but firmly pushing him back against the pillows at the head of the bed.

“Okay,” Yuuri murmurs almost shyly, straddling Viktor’s chest.

Viktor’s eyes are wide, his lips parted in shock at the heat that rolls through him when Yuuri manhandles him. It crackles down his spine like lightning. He wraps his arms around Yuuri’s thick thighs, pulling him closer until the tip of Yuuri’s cock is brushing against his lips and Yuuri has his forearm braced flat against the wall above Viktor’s head. Viktor glances up delicately, coyly, his eyes flicking up the length of Yuuri’s body, dedicated to showing Yuuri exactly how much he wants him here, how grateful he is that Yuuri decided to stay.

“Vitya,” Yuuri starts to say, but the rest of his sentence gets swallowed in a surprised moan as Viktor closes his lips around the head of Yuuri’s cock, sliding his tongue flat against the underside.

“God,” Yuuri chokes,” and Viktor blinks up at him innocently, letting Yuuri’s cock fall out of his mouth with a lewd _pop_.

“What was that, Yuuri?”

“No, uh, keep going,” Yuuri says, breathless, leaning his head on his arm, and so Viktor does, eagerly taking him back into his mouth, sucking on the tip, tonguing at his foreskin in the way that he _knows_ makes Yuuri’s knees weak. He tugs at Yuuri’s ass, encouraging, until Yuuri gets the idea and starts to rock slowly, carefully into Viktor’s mouth.

Viktor makes a pleased noise and relaxes his throat as much as he can, letting his eyes slip halfway shut as he revels in the feeling of Yuuri in his mouth, the salty, musky taste, the weight on his tongue. He holds on to Yuuri’s thighs to ground himself, his fingers digging in, and really Yuuri has the best thighs on the entire planet and Viktor is so, so lucky that he’s the man who gets to be between them.

Yuuri hisses out a shaky breath, unable to stop the little moans and the mewling noises that rise up out of his throat, and Viktor can feel the way that his hips buck up for all that he’s trying to keep his rhythm steady. Tears prick in Viktor’s eyes as Yuuri pushes a little deeper, still so careful. Viktor can’t take him in all the way because of his knot, which stretches wider than Viktor’s jaw can accommodate, so he’s not in any real danger of choking. He squeezes Yuuri’s thigh in what he hopes is an encouraging way, encouraging him to go deeper, faster, to take what he wants.

 _I’m here for you_ , Viktor wants to say, hopes he’s communicating through his actions. _I’m yours._

“Ah, Vitya,” Yuuri gasps, broken, and Viktor moans in response, and then one of Yuuri’s hands grips Viktor’s hair, holding his head in place as Yuuri thrusts into his mouth. Viktor is in heaven. He’s a mess, drool running down his chin, tears spilling out of his eyes, and he’s exactly where he wants to be— being used for Yuuri’s pleasure.

 _Thank you,_ Viktor thinks, looking up at him through watering eyes, straining to catch a glimpse of Yuuri’s pleasure-filled face, his mouth open and panting. Viktor would love to kiss him, to swallow all his small sounds, but his mouth is occupied with something else at the moment, so he keeps all of his attention on Yuuri’s cock, making it the best for him.

Viktor’s close enough that he can pick up the strong scent from the scent glands at the crease of Yuuri’s thighs, and it covers him in an intoxicating wave, spicy-sharp with rut and _delicious_ , and if Viktor could stay right here for the rest of his life he would be happy. Death by Yuuri’s thighs and his scent and his cock: Viktor can’t think of a better way to go.

“Are you okay?” Yuuri asks, his hips stuttering slightly, and Viktor makes an affirmative noise that melts into a moan.

 _Are_ you _okay,_ he wants to ask. _I want to take care of you._ _Am I being good for you?_

“You’re so—” Yuuri draws in a breath, “ _God_ , Vitya, fuck, you’re incredible, you’re so _good_ ,” and Viktor almost cries with the wave of gratitude and pride that washes over him. He moves one of his hands to caress Yuuri’s balls, cupping and rolling them, and Yuuri breathes out shakily, a breathless _haaa_ that goes straight to Viktor’s cock. Yuuri’s hand tightens in Viktor’s hair, and the sharp pain in his scalp brings new tears to his eyes and translates to an electric thrill of arousal that rushes down his spine, making his own cock throb and twitch. He’s aching at this point, leaking all over himself, but Viktor doesn’t want to let go of Yuuri even for a moment so that he can touch himself.

He can feel the restless prickly rush of his heat building up under his skin again as well, thrumming and itching in his scent glands, and he knows he’s going to need to get off soon or the fever will start to set in, but he doesn’t want to stop yet, he wants Yuuri to come down his throat first. His heat often tends to build throughout the day, so Viktor’s not surprised, as late afternoon sunlight winks through the room, to be feeling intensely needy and desperate. He _is_ a little surprised that his omega is unusually quiet and content, despite the physical demands of his heat. Having Yuuri nearby— having Yuuri in his mouth— really does wonders for his comfort and wellbeing.

“Vitya,” Yuuri grits out, “I’m, God, I’m close— I’m gonna, _ah_ —” he starts to pull away, but Viktor makes a protesting noise and holds tight to his thighs, holding him close, keeping him in his mouth as Yuuri thrusts jerkily a few more times, curling over, leaning against the wall as he rides the edge of his orgasm.

“Vitya,” he gasps, “Vitya, _Vitya_ ,” and he cries out and comes in Viktor’s mouth, his fingers still wound tightly in Viktor’s hair. Viktor swallows everything that he can, swallowing around Yuuri’s cock, which makes Yuuri moan high in his throat and choke out Viktor’s name, thrusting weakly again. Some of Yuuri’s come leaks out of Viktor’s mouth, spilling down his chin, and Viktor feels utterly _debauched_ , wrecked and entirely Yuuri’s.

“ _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri breathes again, stunned, panting. His cock bumps against Viktor’s well-fucked lips as he carefully pulls out, and Viktor looks up at Yuuri through his wet lashes, a thin string of saliva connecting his lips to the tip of Yuuri’s cock. Yuuri stares down at him, wide-eyed, flushed red, hazy with afterglow.

“Fuck,” he says, and then tumbles backwards, falling into Viktor’s lap. “Vitya, oh my God— that was—” his eyelashes flutter, and Viktor can see the way he shivers.

“Good?” Viktor asks, wiping the come off his chin, his voice thick and raspy.

“ _So_ good,” Yuuri says, surging up to kiss him, licking into Viktor’s open mouth and swallowing the taste of himself. Viktor clings to him, kissing him like his life depends on it, hot and filthy. The force of it makes them tumble over onto their sides, and Viktor’s not really able to help the way that he starts to rut against Yuuri’s thigh. The pressure against his neglected cock is too much to ignore; he’s so, so hard, he needs to come so badly.

“You’re needy,” Yuuri says, sounding surprised, like this is a new discovery. Viktor’s desperate enough that he forgets to feel ashamed. He’s not sure he really knows what shame is, actually. He whines instead and presses closer, presses his cock against Yuuri’s leg, needing to be touched, needing to be held.

“Needy for _you_ ,” he corrects, looping his arms around Yuuri’s shoulders and pulling him closer, burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck. “When can you fuck me?”

“Soon,” Yuuri promises, stroking his hair, his back, “So soon, sweetheart.” He takes Viktor’s hand and moves it to touch his knot, which Viktor can feel is already starting to go down.

“See?” Yuuri says, kissing his forehead, and even in the midst of his heat crisis, Viktor feels a rush of pride that he made Yuuri come hard enough to deflate his knot so quickly.

“Need you,” Viktor rasps, rutting against him, sighing at the delicious friction on his aching cock. He’s slick enough with precome to slide easily across Yuuri’s skin. “Want you back in me.” He nuzzles into Yuuri’s neck, hiding a grin. “Then you can tell me which you like better, my mouth or my ass,” he says, and he dips his head to suck on Yuuri’s scent gland, releasing another burst of spicy-sweet scent. It does wonders to clear the heat screaming in his head.

 _We’re safe_ , his omega says, _he’s here and we’re safe, he’ll take care of us_.

“ _God_ ,” Yuuri says, pulling his head up to kiss Viktor long and deep. He holds Viktor’s head in his hands and looks at him fiercely, protectively. “I like _you._ I’m here for _you_ , Vitya, that’s why— I’ll always— you’re so important,” he finishes, and Viktor feels a burst of something sweet and bright inside of him that has nothing to do with the way he’s rutting against Yuuri like an animal.

Yuuri’s fingers slip down his ass, a tease and an offer, and Viktor moans low in his throat, desperate for the promise of something inside him. He feels _empty,_ needs to be _filled_ —

“Please,” Viktor rasps, “please put it in me,” and he’s rewarded with the way that Yuuri’s breath catches and then, God, the easy slide of two fingers pressing into him.

“Ah,” Viktor breathes, rocking back onto Yuuri’s fingers, forward to rut against his hip, “ _yes_ ,” and it’s not nearly as much as he wants, but it’s _something_ , and he’ll take anything, right now.

“Fuck,” Yuuri says, curling his fingers, “you’re so _loose_.”

“That’s what happens when you _knot me_ ,” Viktor says brattily, and then moans as Yuuri finds his prostate. “There, _there,_ Yuuri, God—”

“Wow,” Yuuri breathes, and Viktor wants to ask him _what_ , but Yuuri’s stroking and pressing insistently at that spot inside of him and clarifying questions don’t seem too important anymore.

“More,” Viktor insists, begs, “ _please_ ,” and Yuuri gives him a third finger, a fourth, and Viktor keens as his hips stutter against Yuuri’s thigh, his mouth open and drooling.

“Yuuri, Yuuri,” he says, but he forgets what he was asking for, so he just keeps saying Yuuri’s name, a litany of praise and prayer until he comes, squeezing around Yuuri’s fingers, spilling over his hip and the crease of his thigh.

The sight of his come running over Yuuri’s scent gland, bruised from Viktor’s mouth, makes his hips jerk involuntarily, and he hides his face in Yuuri’s shoulder, moaning weakly.

Yuuri purrs for him and cradles Viktor against his chest, gently withdrawing his fingers from his ass ( _no,_ Viktor’s omega protests) and fluttering kisses over his sweaty hair.

“You are so beautiful,” Yuuri whispers, sounding reverent.

Viktor wants to reply, but he’s feeling so warm and floaty, and Yuuri is so good to cuddle with, so he just purrs back, hoping he can convey his affection through the low vibrations. He’ll find his words in a minute. Just another minute of lying here in lazy contentment, with Yuuri. Yuuri won’t leave him. Yuuri will keep him safe.  

 

—

 

When Viktor wakes up, the golden light of sunset is spilling through the sheer curtain that covers the window, and before he’s even fully awake he’s hit by a rush of disappointment that he fell asleep before Yuuri could fuck him. He’s sweaty, too hot, his skin prickly and tender, and the burning need in his belly is a clear sign that his heat is still in full swing.

Viktor lifts his head, looking blearily over his shoulder, and a wave of relief washes over him because Yuuri is still right here, awake, propped up on an elbow and watching him softly.

“Hi,” Yuuri says with a smile, and Viktor’s heart stutters. His cock also twitches. It’s not _fair_ , how much power Yuuri has over him.

“How long were you waiting for me?” Viktor asks, rolling towards him, his voice thick from sleep.

“Not long,” Yuuri says.

“You could have woken me up,” Viktor says, reaching out for him, disappointed to miss out on any time with him. As he moves, he notices that the residual smears of come are gone from his skin. Yuuri must have cleaned him in his sleep. Viktor’s eyelids flutter against the wave of bone-deep affection that runs through him.

 _He takes care of us_ , his omega preens.

“You need your rest,” Yuuri says, sitting up and folding his legs underneath him. “It’s important during heats.”

Viktor makes a grumpy noise and follows him, draping himself over Yuuri’s lap. The burning arousal that courses through him is quickly erasing all traces of sleepiness. “I need you more,” he says. “I’m still _so hot_ , Yuuri. Please.”

“What do you need?” Yuuri asks, running his hand soothingly up Viktor’s side. “Tell me.”

“You got to ride me but I didn’t get to ride you,” Viktor says, pouting. He slides his hand flat over Yuuri’s stomach. “Not fair.”

“Maybe we’d better do something about that,” Yuuri says, his eyes dark. He grips Viktor’s thigh, digging his fingers into the muscle.

“Mm, I think we should,” Viktor says, a sly smile quirking up the corner of his lips. He pulls himself up and straddles Yuuri’s lap, leaning in so that his arms are draped over Yuuri’s shoulders, his mouth right next to Yuuri’s ear. “I want your knot, Yuuri.”

Yuuri shudders, his breath catching. “Okay,” he says, sliding his hand up Viktor’s thigh, to the swell of his ass, to dip down and circle his hole. Viktor gasps at the touch and then whines eagerly, pushing back against Yuuri’s hand.

“You’re still so wet,” Yuuri says, sounding awed.

“Of course,” Viktor mumbles, his voice partially muffled against Yuuri’s neck. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Yuuri’s exhale tickles Viktor’s ear, a mumble of rapid Japanese that makes Viktor shiver deliciously.

“I want your cock in me,” Viktor hums, mostly to see Yuuri’s lovely reaction. He wants Yuuri to be just as hot for it as he is. “I want your _knot_ ~”

“ _God_ ,” Yuuri hisses, slipping two fingers into Viktor, and Viktor whines, because it’s not what he wants, he’s already so open—

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, pleading, as Yuuri’s fingers move against his tender, well-stretched rim. “Please, you don’t need to— I’m _ready_ —”

“Shhh,” Yuuri coos, soothing, as Viktor whines into Yuuri’s shoulder. “You’re doing so well, darling. You’re so perfect. I’ve got you.”

And Viktor _does_ want Yuuri to have him, but he also wants to be filled up, stuffed with more than Yuuri’s fingers. He _needs_ it, and he turns his head, mouthing along Yuuri’s ear, and whispers, “I’m gonna die if you don’t put it in me _right now_.”

He feels Yuuri’s full-body shudder at that, and has a moment of gratification, a reminder that Yuuri’s desire matches Viktor’s desperate need.

“Okay,” Yuuri says, slipping his fingers out, and Viktor moves back a little so that Yuuri can put a condom on and slick himself up, and then _finally_ Viktor is rewarded with the head of Yuuri’s cock pressing against his rim. He’s still so loose from being knotted before that all he has to do is sink down a little and Yuuri slips in with hardly any resistance. Viktor sighs in satisfaction, taking it slowly, smoothly. _This_ is what he wanted.

“Fuck,” Yuuri bites out, digging his teeth into Viktor’s shoulder, his arms tight around Viktor’s waist as Viktor finally bottoms out, and Viktor hums, perfectly pleased now that he’s got Yuuri’s cock inside him again. He’d missed it. He moves his hips experimentally, testing how it feels.

It feels _good_.

“Don’t— don’t move,” Yuuri rasps, his face buried in Viktor’s chest.

“What’s the matter?” Viktor asks, hands playing through Yuuri’s hair. Oh, he loves this feeling, Yuuri thick and deep inside him.

“You’re too hot,” Yuuri says, lips moving against his skin. “You’re so loose from before, it’s— I’m gonna come too quickly.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Viktor points out. “You came in me, what, four times earlier?” Yuuri groans against him and Viktor tips his face up for a quick kiss. “You’ll be fine, darling. Unless I’m hurting you?”

“No,” Yuuri whispers, looking up at him with blown-out eyes, “you’re not.”

“Good,” Viktor says, and starts to move, riding him with the focus and concentration that Yuuri deserves. As much focus and concentration as he can manage while he’s wrecked with heat haze, at least, which means that it’s messy and he’s _loud_ , moaning unapologetically now that he’s finally got what he wanted. He’s got Yuuri— Yuuri’s hands hot on his waist, Yuuri’s cock sliding deliciously inside him.

“Fuck me,” Viktor moans, chanting it like an obscene prayer, “fuck me, fuck me,” as he swivels his hips and comes down again and again on Yuuri’s cock, but oh, he needs so much, wants so badly, his heat howling inside of him, demanding to be satisfied.

Thanks to the way he’s sitting, Yuuri has the leverage to be able to thrust up into Viktor, and he grabs Viktor’s hips and pull him down _hard_ , making him bounce, his cock bobbing obscenely, slapping against Yuuri’s stomach. Yuuri’s hands are searing hot, and Viktor keens unashamedly, holding onto Yuuri’s shoulders, and Yuuri does it again, bouncing Viktor on his cock as he fucks him.

“I’m gonna make you forget your own name,” Yuuri says roughly in his ear, and Viktor _loses it_ , crying out loud and broken.

“Please,” he begs, pushing his hips down, wanting it rough, wanting it deep and filling him.

“Do you want more?” Yuuri asks, grazing his teeth across Viktor’s scent gland.

“Yes,” Viktor gasps, and he squeals when Yuuri slips his hand down and carefully fits a slick finger in alongside his cock, stretching Viktor’s sensitive rim even further.

“ _Yes_ ,” Viktor keens again, rocking back onto Yuuri, gasping as Yuuri snaps his hips up to drive into him again. “It’s so _much_ , Yuuri, it’s so good—”

Yuuri makes a noise that’s almost a growl, deep and possessive, and Viktor is in bliss, knowing that Yuuri wants him, Yuuri has marked him as his own.

He wants _more—_

“Knot me, knot me,” Viktor pleads, blazing _want_ streaking through him, painting his insides in burning colors. Yuuri groans, slipping his finger out of Viktor’s ass so that he can wrap that arm around Viktor’s waist, rocking into him as he pulls Viktor down again and then Viktor can _feel_ the swell of the knot inside of him. His eyes going wide, staring, as it pops, stretching him so wide, stuffing him so full he sees _stars_.

“Yuuri,” he keens, holding on for dear life as he throws his head back, his back in a hard arch, his mouth falling open, his entire world narrowed down to this sensation, this pleasure. Yuuri holds him, his hands against the arch of his back, his mouth on Viktor’s chest, kissing and then _biting_.

“Fuck,” Yuuri mutters, his breath puffing warm over Viktor’s skin and giving him chills. Viktor moans weakly as Yuuri grabs and squeezes his ass, shifting his weight so that he can grind up into Viktor, making Viktor mewl and beg.

“Please, Yuuri, please, please,” he says, wanting more, wanting _this,_ forever, and he humps his hips further down, trying to get it as deep inside him as possible. He’ll worship Yuuri’s body with his body until he has nothing left to give.

“I’ve got you,” Yuuri says, “don’t worry,” and Yuuri is perfect, Yuuri is tender and kind and he’s a genius at giving Viktor what he wants. What Viktor wants is right on the edge of too much, and Yuuri holds him bruisingly hard, biting, moving inside him, stretching him wide until Viktor’s nearly screaming, his head thrown back, pulling quickly at his cock.

“Yuuri, _hah_ , please, I’m coming—”

Yuuri _growls_ , shifting so that he can wrap his hand around Viktor’s on his cock, matching Viktor’s pace, and Viktor shouts, coming dry, his eyes rolling up as the orgasm crashes through him and leaves him shuddering in Yuuri’s arms.

“I’ve got you,” Yuuri whispers to him, holding him close as Viktor slumps against him, his head spinning. Relief spreads through him, the satisfied contentment that stems from coming hard on Yuuri’s knot.

It’s _so_ good.

Viktor wants Yuuri to come too, though, and he shifts himself, squeezing around him. Yuuri gasps, his face flushing darker.

“Lie down,” Viktor says, pushing at Yuuri’s shoulder, and Yuuri does without question, watching him, his hands sliding up Viktor’s thighs. Viktor feels immensely proud, sitting on his knot, looking down at him, and he leans down too, bending over Yuuri because he just _has_ to kiss him, right now.

Yuuri kisses back eagerly, nipping at his bottom lip as Viktor slides his fingers into Yuuri’s hair, palm against his jaw, thumb against the corner of Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri gasps into his mouth as Viktor squeezes around him again, rolling his hips slowly.

“Vitya,” Yuuri breathes, as they break apart, and Viktor purrs, doing it again, grinding onto him smoothly, imagining that he could take Yuuri even deeper.

Yuuri takes his hand, holding Viktor’s gaze as he pulls it to his mouth, his eyes slipping shut as he presses deep, drinking kisses against Viktor’s palm. He lets Viktor’s fingers curl against his face, fitting his lips to the creases and curves of Viktor’s palm. It’s so openly affectionate, adoring, that Viktor stares, caught off guard by such a tender gesture.

Yuuri kisses his way up Viktor’s fingers and drags the tips into his mouth, kissing and sucking on them, nudging at them with his tongue. It’s hot enough to make Viktor shiver, heat settling in his belly, and he leans in to kiss Yuuri’s cheek, his jaw, his neck.

“Are you going to come for me?” Viktor asks, low and seductive, and Yuuri groans, closing his eyes, letting Viktor’s fingers slip out of his mouth as he drops his hands to grab Viktor’s ass, holding tight to him as he pushes his hips up and grinds into him faster. He’s panting, getting closer to the edge, and Viktor props himself up on his arms, moving his body just a little until he finds the angle that has Yuuri rocking directly into his prostate. He cries out, his whole body trembling with the pleasure that cascades golden down his spine.

Yuuri comes with Viktor’s name on his lips, his head thrown back, eyes shut and _gorgeous_ , he’s gorgeous, astounding, a miracle.

“Yes,” Viktor says, touching him, his chest, his arms, his face, “just like that, Yuuri, yes,” and he kisses him again, grateful, in love.

Yuuri’s mouth is burning, his hands holding Viktor’s head, and it’s messy and passionate, heady with desire as they pant against each other’s open mouths. Yuuri barely pauses to rest before he keeps going, canting his hips up, rocking into Viktor.

Viktor moans into his mouth, breaking away to gasp his name, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head as Yuuri gives it to him and _keeps_ giving it to him, exactly what Viktor needs.

 _How does Yuuri know?_ Part of Viktor asks, delirious with pleasure. _How does he make it so good?_

He mewls as Yuuri grinds against his prostate, as his cock rubs against Yuuri’s stomach with each thrust.

“You’re mine,” Yuuri whispers in his ear, and Viktor comes again with a hoarse cry, his hips stuttering, the pleasure crashing and rolling inside of him.

 _We should bond_ , his omega demands insistently, and Viktor’s filters are low enough that he almost relays it as a question— _Bond with me, Yuuri? Will you, do you want to bond?_

He can feel it in his throat, on the tip of his tongue, but he manages to hold himself back, and what comes out of his mouth instead is a broken moan. He gulps half a sob as Yuuri slows his movements but keeps going, relentless. Viktor’s breaths sound rough and harsh to his own ears.

“How are you feeling?” Yuuri murmurs.

Viktor kisses his shoulder and purrs shakily. “Good,” he replies. He’s exactly where he wants to be, riding the line between content and overwhelmed. The comforting solid warmth of Yuuri’s body, the stretch of Yuuri’s knot inside of him, is what grounds him. “Stay inside me, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri says, tilting Viktor’s face towards him for a deep, lasting kiss, and Viktor keeps going back for more, needing more, the sweet heat of Yuuri’s mouth calming the frenetic buzz in his veins.

When they do separate they’re breathing hard, and they stare into each other’s eyes for a moment, and it’s so close and intimate that Viktor thinks he might burst, because how is he supposed to withstand this?

“Yuuri,” Viktor breathes, and tugs at him, urging him to turn over. He wants to be underneath again. Yuuri holds him carefully as they roll onto their sides, and Viktor tosses his head back, his leg hitched up over Yuuri’s hip, his other leg slotted between Yuuri’s as Yuuri leans slightly over him, his eyes bright and cheeks flushed, biting his lip as he grinds his hips, deep, circular motions that have the heat boiling and rushing through Viktor’s body.

Yuuri keeps his hand on Viktor’s waist, holding him in the right position as Viktor gasps and writhes, grinding down onto Yuuri’s cock, his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder to keep him close.

“I’m— _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri gasps, bowing his head to rest against Viktor’s shoulder, his motions getting restless as he drives in deeper, trying to push his hips even more flush against Viktor’s ass, and Viktor clenches around him, squeezing rhythmically until Yuuri comes with a choked yell. Viktor swears that he can _feel_ Yuuri’s cock pulsing inside of him, and he fantasizes about Yuuri painting his insides with his come, leaving a physical mark of how he’s been claimed.

He shudders at the thought, gasping with the arousal that surges through him, and Yuuri touches his face, his own face bright and flushed and _beautiful_ , and Viktor pulls him close, comforted by the fit of Yuuri’s knot inside of him, the knowledge that Yuuri chose him, won’t go.

Yuuri moves his hand to touch Viktor’s cock, stroking him, and Viktor mewls, melting against the mattress, a boneless mess as Yuuri takes him apart. Yuuri is the only thing keeping him whole.

“I’ve got you,” Yuuri says, rolling his hips as he thumbs over the head of Viktor’s cock, “come for me, Vitya,” and Viktor cries out weakly, clinging tight to Yuuri as he feels the orgasm building in his belly, his thighs tingling, his balls tightening.

Viktor’s eyes roll back as he comes, dry, and he lets his whole body go loose, sated and satisfied on Yuuri’s perfect knot. Perfect Yuuri. Viktor would be perfectly happy to let him stay inside of him forever.

“Vitya,” Yuuri gasps, stroking the side of Viktor’s face. “I love you.”

Viktor’s whole world stills for a second, his heart stopping as he stares at Yuuri. Yuuri, who is painted in a thousand golden shades by the evening light, Yuuri whose eyes go wide with something like fear in the space that it takes for Viktor’s heart to give one huge, shuddering thump in his chest.

And—

Viktor feels the tears filling his eyes and he can’t stop it, any more than he can stop the wave of emotion that breaks inside of him, that trembling taut thread of tension that finally snaps. _I love you_ , Yuuri says, and it feels _right_ — like this is the one thing that makes sense in the world, like he’s finally coming home.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, sounding terrified, “Vitya, don’t cry— I didn’t—”

“Yuuri,” Viktor says, taking Yuuri’s face in his hands and beaming as much as he can through the tears that spill down his cheeks. “I was gonna say that to you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOOOOOO BOI
> 
> yeah
> 
> orgasm tally: 
> 
> viktor: 6
> 
> yuuri: 4
> 
> heat total: 31
> 
> THAT'S A LOT!!!!!
> 
> wow (amazing)
> 
> I have one more chapter planned after this, but I have a lot of things that I want to include in it, so depending on how long it gets I may split it into two! (Unfortunately, I can’t give you an estimate for how long the next chapter will take - I have none of it written at the moment, and school is a thing that takes up a lot of my time and energy. Still, I’d like to get it done as soon as I can!) This is the last chapter of the heat, but there’s still a boatload of fluff coming to finish up the fic.
> 
> I also have plans for a sequel that I want to write - it won’t be nearly as long as this beautiful monster, I’m envisioning it at around 8-12k - so even though this fic is nearly over, you don’t have to say goodbye to this universe just yet ;) <3
> 
> My playlist for this fic is [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL6KRaFMfoAOO-aI01nPCXUsiLv-Z41e4z)! (on Youtube because Spotify doesn’t like me.) 
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [yuurispasteldildo](http://yuurispasteldildo.tumblr.com) (nsfw) and [softboyyuuri](http://softboyyuuri.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and sticking with this story <3 and thank you so much for the lovely comments, they make the sun shine and inspire me to keep writing!


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